


Four Months And Counting

by GG_Ladybug



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste Is Sunshine, Adrien Agreste Needs Help, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Identity Reveal, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Needs a Hug, Angst, Angst and Feels, Blood, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, But she keeps it a secret... hopefully, False Accusations, Gabriel Agreste just overall not having a good time, Gen, Good Parent Gabriel Agreste, Hot Mess Adrien Agreste, Hurt Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Hurt Nathalie Sancoeur, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Like seriously get this woman a pay rise, Nathalie Sancoeur Does Not Get Paid Enough, Nathalie Sancoeur-centric, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Out of Character Nathalie Sancoeur | Mayura, Parent Nathalie Sancoeur, Poisoning, Poor Nathalie Sancoeur, Protective Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Protective Nathalie Sancoeur, Psychological Torture, References to Drugs, Rescue Missions, Sacrifice, Self-Sacrifice, She did not sign up for this, Terrorists, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:35:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 39
Words: 69,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25294039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GG_Ladybug/pseuds/GG_Ladybug
Summary: When Adrien and Nathalie find themselves kidnapped for some sort of psychological experiment, it turns out to be a battle of wills. Of course, this is all going on while everyone else believes it was her that took the boy. Really, she couldn’t think of how her day could get any worse. What else could be done to make her any more depressed at the universe?—“Why is it always me? I don’t get paid enough for this shit.”“Language Nathalie.”“Please don’t give me that. I should get a pass. I’m about to get a bullet to the shoulder for god’s sake.””Fair enough...””Though seriously, you might want to step away before they kill me.”—Oh, did Nathalie mention that she was about to get shot as well because the police are more incompetent then the giant baby akuma?
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Nathalie Sancoeur, Alya Césaire & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire & Nino Lahiffe, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth & Nathalie Sancoeur, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Classmates
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794553
Comments: 93
Kudos: 305
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	1. Waking Up

For the first time in her life, Nathalie didn’t quite know what to do. Giving a quick glance to the sleeping teen, Nathalie sighed. She had since been reassured the drug was nothing too serious when her world had finally stopped spinning from the comedown of the mystery liquid jabbed in her neck. 

The assistant fought her restrains fruitlessly. With every second she remained trapped, the more dangerous the situation became. Every passing moment they got farther and farther away from chance of freedom. Minutes were crucial in things like this. She had no time to dawdle. Adrien had only just managed to convince Gabriel to have a dinner with him today, yet here he was now, taken away from the rare allowance.

She couldn't bring herself to scream, it was like she was stuck on autopilot and had little to no control over her actions. That and there would be no point. It was blatantly obvious no one would be able to hear them or they’d be gagged. She wasn’t all too keen on consequences too. Fists clenched, the guilt set in. She should of been able to protect him. She was trained in martial arts for a reason. She was a bodyguard as much as she was an assistant and she hadn't fulfilled either of her purposes at all.

Nathalie has to stop for a moment when someone walked in as to not be caught fiddling with her ropes. She was positive it was a lackey and no one important however. He looked far too pleased with himself. If she wasn't mistaken, this was the one that had rear ended the car earlier. She had to get out to assess the damage, which allowed a moment of weakness to attack with the syringe. Adrien would’ve been injected shortly after she succumbed when they had access to the vehicle without a fight.

He said nothing other then show off her own phone, the tracker probably already ripped out the second they had grabbed them. He didn’t call someone on her contacts to make a ransom call like she immediately believed. Instead he pressed for the voicemail list and entered the number to hear saved messages.

It was a message from the elder Agreste. "Nathalie, I'm well aware what's happening. Car unfindable. Keys gone. No note. Trackers disabled. I don't know what's gotten into you, but I don't like it. Return my son to me before I get the police involved!" Behind the fury, Nathalie could sense the fear and confusion from the slight wavering in his voice. The man’s face probably showed off more emotions however. Kidnapping any child is risky, but taking a worldwide model with a famous rich father that has enough contacts to send you to kingdom come? Practically suicide.

It wouldn’t make sense for her to willingly try it without reason or warning. She pushed that aside for later, opting to bask in what the message implied. She was really being blamed for the suspected kidnapping then? Another message began playing, the man's cruel smile growing by the second. God she wanted so badly to hit that off him. It was never too late after all. When she got out that would be the first subject on the list.

"So not cool, Nathalie! What did he do for you to betray him like this, dudette? Please bring my bro back!" This occupant had to be Adrien's best friend Nino. Bros. That's what Nino and Adrien considered themselves. Brothers in all but blood. The two were rarely seen separated in their free time. She wondered how long it would be until Adrien got to speak to him again. Hours? Days? Months? Years? Ever?

Then another began playing. They must've both been out for a while retrospectively for the news to have spread so much. "You better bring my Adrikins back right now, you wretched witch! Do you know who I am? I'm the daughter of the mayor of Paris! I'll get daddy to reinstate the death penalty for this, you hear me?!? You will not get away with this foul backstabber!"

How many people were trying to retrieve Adrien? That sentence stung. They was looking for Adrien. Her however? They was hunting. Big difference. "I know you don’t know me very well, but I’m Alya. The Ladyblogger. Look, girl, if you're upset over something Adrien’s father has done, taking Adrien isn't the answer. Why don't you two come back to the mansion? We can all talk things out? I'm a reporter. I can build your case. Just please come back, okay?"

This next one was from Marinette. Nathalie could only wonder about all the texts they would've been sending in between each desperate voice mail. "Gabriel’s gone into the frantic stage now. A lot of people are crying. It's... come from wherever you are. Just bring Adrien back to us safe and sound. Maybe you’re being threatened or forced into doing it, but we can protect you. Even if you think this is your only option, we can figure something out. You don’t have to do this alone. Just let us in." Mr Agreste acting frantic would be a sight to pay for. She'd only ever seen the man in any such state when it regarded Emilie. One more message was left on the phone, this one caught the woman by surprise slightly.

"Nathalie? It's Sabine. Please don't take Adrien. You should see everyone. They're a mess. Everyone loves the boy, even I see Adrien as an honourable son. I'm grateful that you stepped in and was there for him when no one else could and tried your best to celebrate Christmas with him even when you had to juggle your responsibilities and leisure. You really helped him a lot, but now let us help you. If you're being pressured or forced, I'd like to talk with you about it and get the issue resolved. If you're afraid they'll fire you or put you away in prison, maybe even thinking someone will kill you if you don’t do this, know I won't let them. Come back. This whole thing will be in the past. It’s never to late to return."

Adrien Agreste, the perfect teenager she'd helped raise. Emerald eyes, hair sunshine gold, heart so innocently pure. The very boy every one cared for to know like the back of their hands. It was painful to witness people's lack of trust and knowledge in her. They both disappear and she's immediately the threat? The bad guy? She appreciated that at least Sabine and Marinette were weighing the possibility she was being forced into kidnapping Adrien by an outward responsibility. It was better then nothing she supposed.

The man’s grin told her that, no matter how composed she force her body to remain, he could see the hurt in her eyes. With a laugh, he tossed the phone out the nearby window. "How sweet. Might even make our clean up job ten times easier. Won't be looking for us if they're dead set on you." He chuckled as he strolled out, a bounce in his step. Sadist.

The echo of the phone smashing caused an indication of rousing from the teen. She had to find a way to keep Adrien safe. At least by her side if they was to be carted off somewhere else. Considering they hadn't talked ransom or threat yet, it was fully possibly they'd been grabbed for human trafficking. She needed a full proof plan to ensure she was always going to remain in the same area as him.

"Hey Nathalie, are we home yet?" The boy's sleepy voice murmured from where he was tied up. "Almost. Just get comfortable and we’ll be back." She wanted the boy to be as comfortable and calm as possible. He didn’t need the same burden she'd been carrying of internal thoughts. The blonde continued to nestle up against her, eyes closed. "Can I ask you something?" Nathalie internally cringed, would Adrien just flat out ask her why she was lying?

"You can ask anything you like." Adrien smiled before opening his eyes. "I appreciate you trying to keep me calm. We've been kidnapped, haven't we?" Ah, it was even blunter then what she surmised then. Nathalie shifted. "Yes. I'm afraid so." She hummed. He must of felt the bonds even through the drugs haze. She should remember that information for later that he was a lightweight when it came to narcotics. Could be useful if he ever needs the hospital.

"It's not your fault." Adrien sighed sleepily. "It's just... panicking isn't like you, Nathalie and I can hear it in your voice." No, it certainly isn't. She was fairly out of character at the moment. The assistant was proud on the fact about how controlled she was on a daily basis. Being shaken out of the usual schedule was rather new. "Why don't you get some extra sleep while nothing is happening? You appear to still be drowsy like I was. It takes a while for everything to clear." Several seconds of confidant silence pass. "No thanks, I'd rather stay up with you."

The unspoken message rang loud and clear. He was determined to stick with her as much as she was to stick with him. "Father must be worried about us. Not to mention Marinette, Nino and Alya. The rest of the class even. They’ll camp out in front of the house waiting for our return. Maybe even inside it if my father was feeling cooperative with them."

Nathalie had no doubt the boy was correct in that assumption, but how could she explain to him her own situation? Just say it or lie? He’d find out eventually anyways. So why hesitate. When the woman made no move to reply, Adrien's eyes looked up tentatively. She could feel his hands trembling behind her. He was scared. It was fully possible he was conversing in an effort to control himself from bursting out into tears. So she’d keep him talking until he felt better. "Well you see..." She trailed off slightly, tilting her head up to stare at the ceiling.

"They're not going to be looking for me. Just you." She shrugged as best she could in the bindings to add to her point. "Why wouldn't they? We're both here aren’t we?" Adrien questioned, stifling a yawn. Nathalie stared as Adrien sleepily rubbed his eyes with his shoulders. "Ironically, they've all lead themselves to believe I'm the one that has taken you. They will be searching for me, but in a manhunt rather then a rescue effort." She stated, watching as the boy's eyes widened in shock.

"But we all trust you! We have since the beginning of ever! How could anyone ever think you'd take me?!?" He blanched, eyes screaming disbelief. "I'm not sure. I would be the most obvious suspect since I was with you last." She answered pointedly.

"At least you know you’re innocent to me." He smiled kindly. This child tugged at her heart strings most the time, and he was somehow cuter when in a drug induced delirium. Adrien was so trusting of her that it truly broke her heart upon realising just how quick the others could point fingers at her. "I'll be fine. I'm not alone cause you're here with me, Adrien. That's all that matters." She nodded formally.  
  
Nathalie closed her eyes, she wasn’t sure she could stand to see Adrien this way. Especially knowing she was meant to be the one protecting him from having the act committed. Some bodyguard she was. The boy must of followed her lead as his breathing slowed, having lulled himself into sleep.

She manoeuvred around as best as she could while restrained so she was facing Adrien rather then back to back. She could at least watch over him and keep trying to work out her ropes. Why would these men do it? This question took forefront in her mind. Why would someone knowingly hurt them? To that, Nathalie didn’t have an answer.

She was almost sure none of this had been planned. Perhaps the men had seen their car going back from school and it had just happened. Wrong place wrong time? There was probably others like them that had been taken in a similar manor. It was far too swift for it to have been the first try. They would’ve had practice. Experience. She kept mulling over these facts as she grew more and more frustrated with the lack of process on getting free.


	2. Learning The Terms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathalie’s status as fugitive becomes official rather then suspected and the big guy lays out the land for the reason they’re there

Everything was back to unbearable silence for half an hour until she could hear a radio playing somewhere in the distance. It was probably from the guy guarding them if she was to guess. She didn’t have any complaints, instead straining to listen in an attempt to stem the growing headache. It was working for a while until a broadcast interrupted the scheduled programming with an amber alert. Somehow she just knew it would relate to their situation. 

"It's now been confirmed by Parisian authorities that Nathalie Sancoeur (assistant to fashion designer Gabriel Agreste) has kidnapped the man’s son, famous model Adrien Agreste. The teen has blonde hair, emerald green eyes and was last seen wearing a white button up over a black tee with yellow, green and purple stripes across the chest, blue jeans and orange low top sneakers with a Gabriel brand black butterfly on the side. The car driven and asked to be kept a vigilant eye out for is a silver BMW, licence plate SMB1286. The suspect is described as having raven hair that reflects blue in certain lights with a dyed red streak, blue eyes, red and black glasses with no frames around the lenses and wearing a formal suit with a red turtleneck. If you see her or Adrien, please dial your local emergency services immediately. She is reported to have trained in many types of hand to hand combats making her dangerous. Along with that, she could possibly be armed-"

At that, she grimaced. Not able to listen to the radio any further, she tuned it out as best she could. It was official now. They thought she was the kidnapper. The others must of lost hope of her coming back magically with Adrien in tow and assumed she really had gone off the rails. Tenderly, she used her legs to move the blanket over Adrien that had been left by whoever had taken them. She could live without it. He was wearing thinner clothes then her anyways.

Nathalie wished she'd been able to plan this out in advance. Adrien had nothing on him but the clothes on his back just like her. They weren't exactly the best of clothes to choose for impromptu hostage situations. Adrien's were jeans were constricting and her shoes were too impractical. If they had to run, she would have to ditch her heels and run barefoot. While she was fully capable of it, she would rather not risk her chances of having them break at the worst possible moment.

To distract herself from her steadily bruising ego, she thought to her circumstances. Nathalie was confident they had gone further out then Paris for this. These were clearly professionals so they’d be smart enough to know you had to make viable distance while you could. Border control and permitters went into overdrive when an Amber alert was called. She wouldn't even be surprised if they'd gone father then Spain or Germany.

Under that pretence, it was fully possible they had a boat of some kind. They could’ve already been transported to Britain via the English Channel while they was both unconscious. She had no way of knowing until she got an accurate bearing of the temperature outside. She knew the forecasts around the world quiet well. She could guess where about pretty quickly if given the chance.

As she messed with the one thing preventing her escape, she thought back to those lessons they’d received a while back. They'd both been trained by Mr Agreste in the art of untying knots. The threat of kidnapping looming over your shoulder just came with the deal when you had rich parents or employers. It had come in use for many situations, sure. Yet the one time they was actually taken? No one had told her how to escape zip ties, ropes and ribbons consecutively meshed together. They were all laced perfectly, leaving only a bit of wiggle room for hand movement. It didn’t help it was behind her back. She'd only managed to undo one segment of the many loops, making no difference.

Adrien slept on, blissfully unaware as Nathalie failed to make any leeway. It's no secret the teen hated being restricted. His worst fears was of being a prisoner really. Nathalie's idiocy had made his nightmares into a reality as she couldn’t protect him.

She should stop blaming herself. It wouldn't assist the situation. Only make sure it worse. Adrien was just a child, an innocent bystander. He'd just been caught in the cross fire of the situation just like she had. No matter what the others believed, this wasn't her doing. It would've just been other people going through the same thing if not them.

Nathalie blew strands of loose hair out her face. Actually, face was a good point actually. She wondered what the other's faces would be like when they found out she was a victim too. One that's heard their accusations loud and clear as she sat tied up at that. The looks on people during akuma attacks would be pale in comparison to their reactions when they discovered they'd screwed both of them over by looking for evidence on a red herring. 

They'd search warrant her house and take her possessions for examination. Freeze her accounts and search for motives that weren’t there. All of that precious time and money for absolutely nothing other then a cold case. A defeated sigh managed to escape from her collected facade. From the corner of her eye, the woman could see the signs of the boy beginning to awaken again. She could do this. She just had to wait for an opening and try and escape, all the while keeping Adrien safe.

They sat conversing most the time, trying to act like their life wasn’t in direct danger every second of the clock. It had taken another two days of this quiet frankly boring routine for someone to finally renter with water in hand. No food, but they could live without for a while. She was more concerned about the possibility of the liquid being drugged however.

The two were wide awake, whatever they'd been injected with on the road side was long out their systems. He raised both cups to their lips carefully. "Drink. I’ve done nothing to it. I swear. I’ll even drink some too if you want. I'll cut you out your bonds if you comply." The man offered. He was different from the guard. Maybe this was the boss. Those didn’t like their hands getting dirty.

They both shared a look before reluctantly agreeing. They downed the contents when there was no bitter twinge of tampering. Just as promised, the things keeping them in place was sawed away by a pocket knife, allowing them to move tingling limbs. Far too restricted of blood to fight just yet. Smart. "Why are we here?" Adrien demanded weakly after a moment.

"We're running... an experiment let's call it. We've done it on several people. We're so close to getting everything done and concluding." The man assured, holstering his knife. "Experiment? What kind of?" Nathalie probed. "Psychological. Depending on age, gender and affiliation, how far is someone willing to go to keep someone safe. We have to question people... often... and we have to know how people work to get the answers we need. This is the easiest way." He elaborated. 

Oh god, that sounded like some stupid movie plot didn’t it? Self sacrifice for their comrade. While Adrien still looked confused, Nathalie scowled. "A terrorist organisation using civilians as lab rats so they can figure out people's pressure points when torturing for information. How cruel." She ground out. This wasn't looking good for them. Adrien stiffened and shuffled slightly more towards her. 

"I didn't like it either, but it's getting the job done. With the data we've collected, I’ve been getting ten times the information I usually get from our enemies." He chuckled, leaning up against the wall. "However we needed to get two people with a mother and son bond that are strangers by blood. We get quite a lot of those you see, and a rich kid and his father's assistant was the best way to simulate that." He finalised.

"Don't you dare hurt him." Nathalie snapped angrily, holding out a hand to protect the boy, sensing this could go very bad very quick. "Oh no not at all. At least not until _you_ tell us to. That's the whole point in this." He smirked. He clicked his fingers, which made three men appear from the door ways shadows like magic. "Boys, get the girl and prepare for S1." He ordered. Adrien let out many words of protest as they approached.

" _Adrien, no. Just stay quiet._ " She demanded quietly, he sent a pleading look with his eyes as she was hoisted up and restrained with a singular zip tie this time. Better then the absolute tangle that she was faced with last time. "There will be four stages each lasting a month each. We want to see how far you will go through torture for this boy. You do it and whenever you're done, you just tell us and we'll stop and move onto him for the rest of the duration. When the four months are up, you'll be let free with a burner phone since I feel particularly nice. Can’t have such a good model die in the elements. It would be a waste. Of course you’ll be getting basic medical treatment so you don't die. You should come out relatively healthy as long as you don’t get on our bad side. Then things get messy and I don’t like messy." He recited as the terms ingrained themselves.

"So if I give in by the first stage, he'd have to do the other three and I'd just sit here and watch?" She sneered, despising how they ran things already, but it could be worse. "Of course. This is why we're doing this. It's all about _sacrifice_. Just how far will a human go for another. We've done family, friends, partners, strangers, students, teachers, comrades, acquaintances, and now the a maternal bond." The leader agreed casually.

"Nathalie, I can take it! Just give in right now! Don't get hurt for me! Please!" Adrien begged, standing up on shaky legs. "You know I won't do that." She deadpanned, looking away as they began dragging her forward. "Nathalie! Damn it, give in! Let me do it!" Adrien and his hero complex never seized to amaze her. She just hoped he didn’t nothing stupid and got himself beaten up for it. 

"As long as you're okay nothing else matters so don't do anything they don’t want you to and don’t do anything I would do. There’s a grey area in between there. That’s where you reside. Just sit there and accept food and drink. Wait for me to come back. Do you understand?" She called out as Adrien desperately tried to get past the boss futilely.

“I’m not leaving you to get hurt!” He shouted, eyes blazing. “I’ll be fine.” She hushed. Well, she wouldn't be fine, but she could handle this at the least. Four months and they was free with no extra cost. Four months of saving Adrien and she could rest. Just four months, no matter how long they'd be. If they were lucky the police could catch on that she was innocent and actually help, finding them before the time limit. Four months of torture, because she'd be damned if Adrien takes any of that time for her.

Four months and counting


	3. 14:14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nathalie has sass, she meets the resident doctor and Adrien is so done with how the universe is screwing him over

Nathalie sat up against the cold wall. She had been stuck in this bloody cell for god knows how long just waiting. At some point the cold had seeped into her very bones. Would it kill them to get central heating in this place? In her time dwelling on her thoughts, she seemed to have done a bit too good of a job cataloguing and filing away every bit of information he could on the people that had taken them.

Nathalie couldn't wait to be done and over with this little mission of hers. To get back to Paris. Back to her apartment. Back to the mansion as an assistant where the others were surely waiting for her. Well, after her name had been cleared at least. That was still a problem on her list.

Right now though, she closed her eyes shut in an attempt to soothe the burning need for sleep. She'd been staying awake as long as possible as of late to be sure Adrien was safe and it was beginning to catch up to her. With any luck she'd be knocked out at some point, allowing her to rest again.

She forced them open again however. Falling asleep now would be a miscalculation on her part. It really wouldn't do to be caught unaware when the captors returned. Which, if Nathalie's guesses were to be trusted, would be soon.

She leaned her head back against the rough stone of the cell, glancing down at her hands. Her fingers were pale and spindly. Shaking too, a jarring reminder of the fact that she, despite the intellect, was still human. She let out a laugh, despairing.

If only Gabriel could see her now. The brilliantly cool and calm Nathalie, assistant to the renowned iceman of the fashion world, acting afraid. Nathalie's fragile laughter died down as she knew if she continued, it would probably progress into sobs. The mantra of I can do this played over and over again until she was calm enough to steady herself. The door opened.

Back in the original room, Adrien wanted so badly to transform. The moment Nathalie was being dragged away, he had decided to bust her out of there as Chat Noir, identity be damned. The problem was the man standing guard. Growling under his breath harder then he had whenever confronted with Lila, he looked to his clenched hand.

What?

No no no seriously _what_?!?

Panic came in waves after that. Where the hell is his miraculous? He couldn't of lost it? "Hey. Where's my uh..." He questioned nervously to the brawn, looking to the finger that owned a neat tan line, void of the heavy metal it usually had. "Your silver ring, rich boy? In the possessions box. You'll get it back after the four months is up." The man's gruff voice huffed. Other then the gravity of that sentence settling in, he was wondering one other thing. Just how much did the universe hate them and what was it going to throw at them next? 

In Nathalie's case, apparently it was a metal club. She really had underestimated how much those things hurt when used to their full potential. Somehow, you learn to feel bad for all those golf balls out there after the tenth hit. “Now why suffer when you can just give it to another person right now? Just say the word.” The boss from earlier suggested sweetly from the doorway. Nathalie had to stop herself from giving him a less then appropriate nickname inside her head. “No thank you.” She fired back, holding a pained wince at what was definitely a bruised up rib.

“Ah, trusting higher powers to help you, are we? The Lord will fight for you, and you shall hold your peace and remain at rest. Exodus 14:14 if I’m not wrong.” He mused motioning the man to hit her across the face again. She really hoped they didn’t break a cheekbone. “Never read the bible. Pretty sure I’m going to hell anyways. Same for you.” She smirked. She at least knew god would frown down upon being a villain and a rather cold blooded criminal.

Personally, the hit that succeeded her sass, was so worth it. They carried on with that golf club until she finally let out a short gasp when it landed in just the wrong spot. At least it wasn’t a scream. She’d sooner jump in the Seine then give them the satisfaction of that. As they filed out with mutters of getting the doctor, she glanced about the room again.

Testing chains would be useless. That was one of the first things Nathalie learned in those knit lessons. They were far to strong to even try snapping most the time and it would only render your wrists broken or bleeding if you struggled too hard. That and lackeys never make mistakes in securing and tightening cuffs if they were experienced.

Even if they did, what would be the point? She would never escape the room before being subdued. It probably wouldn’t even be her with the punishment for attempting it. Adrien would get the brunt. No, if she was going to escape before the four months come to an end, it's not going to be in the middle of a torture session.

The door opens, and her pulse jumped slightly settling at the sight of a medical bag. They couldn’t have her bleeding internally to her death she supposed. It would defeat the entire purpose of them even being here if she bit the dust on the first day.

“Good morning, Miss. I’m Victor Martin. I’m going to be the one fixing you up.” He greeted smoothly as he stepped into view. What a boringly common name. It was probably an alias if anything. If not? Then someone needed to have a serious talk to his parents about half decent baby names. The intimidation factor of the forced familiarity rankled her as much as it probably will in the future.

Other then that, he sounds relatively cheerful. Always a bad sign with sketchy doctors. He looked somewhat professional with a white coat, shirt, tie clipboard and stethoscope draped over his neck, but she wouldn’t be all too surprised if they had killed some poor man for that too or merely ordered a set online.

Nathalie opted to say nothing. This is a fix up, not an interrogation. Either way, she swallowed the rebellious retorts she already had planned up in her mind for later when it could be better used. So settling on a steeled glare was the best course of action for the Back-Alley Doctor. This really was one big movie trope in the making wasn’t it?

She could only sigh internally that he wouldn’t start doing things he saw in a movie rather then from an actual medical degree. First aid like that would be useless or outright counterproductive. “It’s best we start with how you’re feeling then?” This Victor guy prompted. “Like I just got hit with steel several times over and over again.” She deadpanned back, making a show of spitting some blood out at his shoes. It was also it sad she didn’t manage to get any on his leather oxfords too.

“Right. The usual for stage one. Fists and sticks.” He hummed, approaching and motioning for her to open her mouth. She complied and he spent a moment examining. “The blood looks to just be coming from a few loose molars Johnson knocked out. Nothing too serious like ruptures that’ll need a roadside surgery.” Victor hummed pleasantly. Did he think he was doing a good job? She could’ve told him that. She was the one dealing with it after all.

“Any strong pain in your chest area, particularly when you breathe in?” He questioned while feeling around her ribs. Gritting her teeth together as he prodded at some of the worse effected bruises she nodded. “None of them feel broken. They could be fractured at a stretch. I think it’s just bruised. I’d consider yourself lucky. Everyone else walked out of the first day with a rib or two snapped.” He diagnosed with a smile.

“Yes because I’m _so_ lucky at the moment.” She blinked sarcastically. “I suggest you sleep in a more upright position for the next few nights. Should help eliminate the pain and make it easier to breathe. The rest of the bruises are superficially. Could be a small fracture or two, but those heal up rather quickly anyways without you even noticing they was there.” He offered happily.

How could one be so bright when it was your job to literally treat tortured subjects? Or was it because he thought he was making the world a better place by saving the innocent and reversing the work of the bad? It was still on the table that this was just a ruse to make them attached to someone here, stopping them from escaping if just to see him.

From there he becomes in the lackeys and she was being dragged back to the holding room that still housed Adrien. Whoever threw her inside was destined for a hit of her own when she got out since it did not bare well on her forming bruises. “Nathalie! Are you alright!?! You wasn’t hurt to bad was you? Do you need water? I can take it if you’re done I swear-“ Adrien began questioning hurriedly.

She covered his mouth with a hand to bring a stop to the worried line of cross examination. “I’m fine and no. You are not going in my place, Mr Agreste.” She worked out sternly. The boy deflated in relief and pulled her into a hug in which she held in a groan when he put pressure on her torso. “Your teeth are all bloody.” He realised after a moment, eyes wide.

“Just one of my back teeth when they hit the side of my face. It will probably be one long dentist appointment when we go back to Paris.” She assured when he probably began drawing up worse case scenarios. “They brought more water and some soup. You can wash out the blood.” He clapped, going off towards the door and picking up a tray that had been left by the side.

Adrien brought it back and held out the cup of water. He had just turned back to place it down so they could sit and have the good comfortably when he heard the small hiss of pain from the woman behind him. The teen whirled around in time to see the assistant snatching her hand back from where she’d been reaching for the cup and towards her side.

"Nathalie…" He began, tone pointed and worried, but his new roommate of circumstance didn't allow him to finish. "My ribs are bruised. I forgot." She smiled. "You forgot? How the hell do you forget about messed up ribs?" Adrien breathed incredulously.

"I just stopped thinking about it. Thought you would understand that kind of thing." Nathalie chuckled l snidely. "Why's that, then? Because I'm such an idiot that I forget something as soon as it happens?" He questioned. The look on Nathalie's face, one of badly concealed amusement, told him that this just might be the case. “You forget you just attended a photoshoot one time and it’s all that’s ever brought up, I swear.” He muttered in frustration, making the woman’s mirth grow.  
  


1 day down 119 to go


	4. And Counting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that while Adrien and Nathalie are counting down the days, others are always going to be counting them forward

Gabriel stood, waiting impatiently for his sister in law to finally arrive from the hotel they'd decided to stay in rather then use the guests rooms at the mansion. She had sent text to say she was on her way, but that was ages ago. Though she had never been the most reliable when it came to time. Time they surely didn't have.

* * *

**_Where are you? -GA_ **

**_The taxi got stuck in traffic. Be sensible Gabriel. Go in without us and we’ll pick you up. Just don’t punch anyone again, Gabriel. At least not hard enough to break another poor person’s nose -AGDV_ **

* * *

After reviewing the reply from Amelie, he sighed heavily and entered the police station. It was ridiculous and despite not wanting to sound like Audrey, it was utterly ridiculous too. How could a four mile journey take so long? Or was that just because of his growing impatience as the days wore on?

The activity became quiet at his presence before jerking back into motion at his glare. It wasn’t surprising. Adrien Agreste’s kidnapping was the talk of the world and every force, internationally or not, had been exhausting themselves trying to locate the boy if they didn’t have any other cases lined up.

Gabriel rang the reception bell, meeting the insufferably kind women for what felt like the hundredth time as of late. She merely smiled at him before calling for the person he was to meet today. At least he didn’t have Roger this time. He’s as bad as an officer as he is an akuma. The finely dressed man ushered him into his office and shut the door behind him.

“I’m Inspector Jack Claude. One of the people assigned to your son’s case as of right now. I called you in because there’s been some developments as you know. I wanted to check in with you, see how you’re doing and if you have any queries.” He greeted with a bow.

Gabriel went back to pacing in front of Claude’s desk, palms sweaty and clasped together behind his back. He was sure his eyes showed just how tired and worried he was. "Fifteen days." He tried to state calmly, even though his voice shook slightly. "He's been gone for fifteen days now." Claude nodded, biting his lip slightly. "We're looking everywhere as humanly possible." He assured.

"She hasn’t even had the decency to send a letter assuring he is alive and healthy! I swear to god if I ever see that woman again, I'll choke her myself.” Gabriel growled, clenching his hand into a shaky fist. “You have to remember that we’re still investigating. It could take a while, but we will bring your son back to Paris.” Claude sighed. He took note how he didn’t add _home_ to that point.

“What... what are his chances?” Gabriel asked anxiously, sensing the overall moral was low. They could avenge, but he was more focused on being his boy home alive then dead.“I will be honest, Mr Agreste, because I don’t want to lie to you. It's rare for people to go missing for more than a day and almost three quarters of them are found within 24 hours. As time goes on, the chance of them returning home safe gets slimmer, particularly if they are vulnerable.“ He explained truthfully.

“So... so you’re just looking for a corpse now? Is that it?” He muttered, the detective quickly shook his head. “Not at all. I promise you Mr Agreste. We will never give up on trying to bring him home alive. The case of Amanda Berry, Gina Dejesus, and Michele Knight in America is a good example of how long a missing persons case might last before they’re brought back. The details behind the case aren’t pleasant, but all three girls were held captive for over a decade before escaping.”

Gabriel ran a hand over his face and sat down on the nearby seat, slumping in defeat. “There’s nothing I can do? I have to be able to do something?” He questioned, a tinge of begging in his voice. Claude seemed to think for a moment before answering, writing some phone numbers on a slip of paper.

“I suppose you could hire a private investigator. They do offer a second option. The non official status offers useful benefits in a case. It’s easier for them to blend in society and people are more likely to reveal sensitive information than they would us. They don’t have to worry about being arrested if they saw something while doing illegal activity or not wanting to be dragged into a complex investigation. If a lead should turn up half way across the country, a private investigator can be on the first flight to interview the witness without hesitation where we would have to contact foreign office and it would waste valuable time. If you want, you could hire one or even go out with our recuse efforts looking yourself. Though please don’t go off alone, it could be dangerous and we can offer support you wouldn’t have. These are some people you can contact if you want to go down that route.” He suggested, handing over the small list of numbers to him. “I think I will, yes.”

_**15 days and counting...** _


	5. Makeshift Schedules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nathalie thinks the whole torture thing is becoming a drag, they learning to deal and both Adrien and Nathalie can be brats when desired

Time felt like it was skipping by easily. She understood that the whole idea of it was that it was going to be unbearably repetitive, but had it always been so boring? Sure she wanted nothing more then the pain to stop, but one can only be beat so many times before it kind of just... got dull after a while.

Well, dull was an understatement really, but that’s the best way to put it out of all the viable dialect she was proficient in. They always start throwing fists after they loose the energy to swing the pole and then finish with a few kicks when their arms got too weak to right hook. It got predictable. She could map out exactly how Johnson (as Victor had remarked his name to be) acted by this point. 

Nathalie almost started to grow numb to it all by the fifteen day of what they continuously called stage one by their captors. Not the pain. That was still excruciatingly agonising since new deep bruises formed just as old ones faded. It was the context. It went from unbelievably mad to well here we go again.

She had found ways to make her body stop screaming at her at the very least. Simple everyday activities like walking around the holding room tended to ease some of the pain directly. If she could remember her science classes correctly, it was something about blocking pain signals to the brain. It gave her plenty of time to help her particularly tense joints that had been hit in just the wrong way.

Adrien had even forced her to sit down and start learning breathing exercises the teacher of his was constantly lessoning them in. When the pain got too intense, she did suppose she took shallow, rapid breaths too often. It wouldn't help her case if she stated feeing dizzy on top of all her growing symptoms. That didn't stop her from hating the hour long speech her had given her about mind, body and soul care when she’d passed out.

According to the teen, counselling can help with pain. She'd given him one hell of an unimpressed look at that. "Living with it is not easy and you can be your own worst enemy by simply being stubborn. Like not doing your walk everyday and not accepting you have limitations. It can make you tired, anxious, depressed and grumpy. You’ll fall into a downward spiral. Be kind to your mind!" Was what he'd instantly come out with in response after the look. While increasingly mushy, she would admit it did make sense.

Some people found it useful to get help from a counsellor, psychologist or even hypnotherapist to discover how to deal with their emotions in relation to their pain. However if she could find one of those, they wouldn't even be here. So she instead was made to sit therapy sessions with Adrien as her resident psychologist. Nathalie had originally been adamant on not dumping her problems on the poor boy, but hours of bickering and persuasion made her give in.

She supposed the makeshift sessions was keeping them from both going mad. Humans are fickle creatures and while injuries could kill them, so could their own minds. It was good they kept social, talking as if nothing had happened while still acknowledging the fact rather then sink into the beginnings of denial. Of course, Adrien had gone on several times about her chances of PTSD being significant high as she was already exhibiting symptoms while still experiencing the trauma, but that could be suitably ignored until a later date.

Other then that, distraction was a whole subject on pain management. Forgetting about pain and what not. She found out it helped if she kept shifting her attention on to something else. That made it so the pain was not the only thing on her mind. Getting stuck into an activity did just that. Of course, they were still captives so it wasn't like she could start any hobbies like photography, sewing or knitting. As a compromise, the duo stuck to trying to create stories in there minds one word each back and forth or playing something as simple as a Rock Paper Scissors tournament. Till the day she died, Nathalie would never admit to the fact she spent an hour of that time trying to figure out how the game even worked since she failed to understand how paper could possibly beat rock.

Sleep was... an interesting chain of events put lightly. It was already difficult to nod off at night since n matter how she propped herself up, she was always going to end up laying on something or other that had been thoroughly bruised. Yet it was crucial to try to stick to a normal sleep routine that wasn't sacrificed to watch over Adrien or laid quietly awake after a nightmare. She had been having many of the latter recently.

Sleep deprivation can also make pain worse according to 'Doctor Agreste' as he opted to call himself jokingly whenever he found himself fussing over her to the max. "Go to bed at the same time each evening, get up at a regular time in the morning, avoid taking naps in the day and you should find it easier." The serious monotone the boy took while ordering that of her was quite funny. She'd have to make him repeat it to the point when they got out of there so she could record it and present it to others.

He had also been feverish on the point of not letting her pain get in the way of their conversations. Talking and keeping in touch with people was good for health and can even help someone feel much better. Going mute would do more harm then good. Relaxation techniques was another thing Adrien had regularly made her attempt to reduce her persistent pain. 

They had even constructed their own little schedule. It kept things relatively normative. While it was no photoshoot after a school day or scheduled appearances, it kept the ruse of casualness. While they didn't have a firm grasp on time other then around about when night and day hit, they always planned it out the same.

* * *

**_1) Wake  
_ **

**_2) Socialise_ **

******_3) Eat_ **

**_4) Mediation_ **

**_5) Torture_ **

**_6) Breathing_ **

**_7) Exercise_ **

**_8) Socialise_ **

**_9) Eat_ **

**_10) Distraction_ **

**_11) Therapy_ **

**_12) Socialise_ **

**_13) Sleep_ **

**_Repeat_ **

* * *

Even through all the mayhem, they had managed to make an overall system. A neat set up to keep them going even if it wasn't perfect. It was at least easier for them in the long run. It was the best they could do with the hand they were dealt, so they might as well play it rather then fold. It would probably adjust over time, but they supposed that came with captive life. It wasn’t like they could control it.

“You know I’m kind of happy we just get food through the door when we ask. At home when I want a snack it’s so difficult to sneak past you and father.” Adrien hummed, pulling her out her thoughts while finishing his granola bar. “You can’t reach the top shelves?” Nathalie smirked, pushing her slightly cracked glasses up. “You know I hate you sometimes.” He groaned. “The small do tend to hate the bigger, yes.” 

“I’m not that small! I’m one of the tallest in the class! I’ll outgrow you sooner or later!”

“I would find it ultimately amusing if you ever had to go to the Fabric Store for your father. You wouldn’t be able to reach half the items.” 

“I would! That’s a point. Why did you never get the fabrics last June in the end?”

“I had a row with a chip and pin machine.”

“You had a row with a machine?”

“Sort of. It just sat there while I hurled abuse. It kept asking me to swipe the card slower and rescan my items.”

“Please tell me that’s on YouTube.”

“Stop laughing. Though yes. I believe it is.”

“I am so-“

“Don’t make me turn off the internet the moment we get back Adrien Agreste.”

“Mobile data exists, Nathalie.”

“I will not hesitate to tell your classmates about your little escapades with toy cars when you were younger.”

“Oh god not the one about the hot wheels set.”

“I can and I will.”

“It appears we’re at a stalemate of embarrassing stories.” It wasn’t anything special, but it was light moments like that which was keeping them sane. It wasn’t long until the second stage began and they was one month closer to freedom.

25 days down 95 to go


	6. Distractions Are Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nathalie is anxious so Adrien distracts her with school, she turns out to be more wholesome about teenage problems then first thought and Adrien lets his Chat Noir side out a little

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, be more like Nathalie when it comes to body image. You’re ✨perfect✨ just the way you are

On what felt like a Wednesday morning, Nathalie found herself limping around their room in an attempt to pace. She had tried to sleep in, but her brain had kicked into an overdrive. She wouldn’t be able to stay still for the life of her. They’d reached the last day of this month and unless her counting had gone off the rails, the next stage would soon come into play.

The thing that unsettled her was that the next phase was completely unknown. They didn’t even have a rumour to prepare themselves for when it entails. Since getting physical was off the table, she half expected them to start with mental torment to allow time to heal before they did anything else. “What are you thinking about doing when we get out of here?” Adrien asked, trying to break her out of the due panic. 

She stopped pacing and chose to welcome the distraction. “Prove my innocence for one.” She explained cooly. Adrien snorted a laugh. “Well yeah. That makes mine kind of dumb. I just want to finish my year on time. I mean, I’m already a couple years ahead because of your homeschooling, but I still have to sit tests and we have call PSHE session that I’ve never done before.” He hummed, sipping on his water. “What is that? Citizenship?” She questioned. 

“Basically. It’s like more personal though. Like relationships and body image.” Adrien mostly agreed. “Are most people self conscious enough for there to be lessons? I wouldn’t change anything about my body so I don’t understand why that would be necessary.” Nathalie tilted her head in confusion.

Adrien looked up, the cup stopped partway to his mouth. “Wow, do you realize how rare that is?” He chuckled. “The media plays up girl image issues constantly. You’re never thin enough, or pretty enough, or stylish enough-”

“Enough for who? Who are we trying to impress?” She interrupted. Adrien stared at her for a moment before trying to answer. “Well I suppose the people you want to date or are friends with. You have to look amazing to catch their eye!” He shrugged. Nathalie’s bemused look only grew. “I haven’t been in many as of late, but when I was in high school, relationships are about your personality and interests. You want to date someone who you like, appearance won’t tell you that.” She carried on.

“You really worship the don’t judge a book by its cover thing, huh?” Adrien smiled, finishing his beverage and putting it aside. “Most of outer looks are just luck. I may eat healthy and exercise but I landed good genes. Some people have genetic conditions that make it impossible for them to have healthy body indexes. Why would teens judge others on factors they can’t control?”

“I think they do it because they’re insecure about their bodies too. Comparing themselves to what they view as a worse type makes them feel better I suppose.” Adrien theorised bluntly. Nathalie glanced at the boy again as if she couldn’t believe what was coming out his mouth. “How could most people in the world go through daily life feeling uncomfortable in their own skin? Clearly I have a lot to google.” Nathalie said simply. “No wonder you’re so freaking confident all the time.” Adrien smirked.  
  
“That’s a point, do you know subjects off by heart?” He clapped in realisation. She nodded while sitting back down carefully as to not jostle her ribs. “We were doing Greek gods. Can you maybe teach me? It will get your mind off things and keep my brain working.” He tried meekly. Well, she was a qualified tutor for a reason. “I don’t see why not.”

Adrien jumped in victory. “Looks like I’m following your _Leda._ ” He grinned. Nathalie straightened. “We’re seriously doing puns?” She sighed. Who was he? Chat Noir? “What? It’s a way to _Greece_ up the conversation.” He smirked. “You’re getting on _Minerva._ ” The boy came to a halt, his eyes widened with a joyful glint like a child on Christmas morning seeing just how many presents were left for them. “Did you just make a pun?” 

“No.” She glared at him trying to hide her amusement. “Liar! You punned! I heard it!” He shouted happily. “I didn’t. Even if I did, it’s the only pun you’re getting out of me for a _long _ time. Now, how should we tackle Greek Gods? We don’t have any paper or the internet to get any recourses so it will have to be oral like when we was learning about the pyramids.” Nathalie diverted. “De-Nile isn’t just a river in Egypt you know.” 

She really needed that distraction actually

30 days down 90 to go...


	7. Water? Water...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nathalie becomes acquainted with Stage 2 and Adrien gives some advice

It was one of those days where you think nothing could possibly get in your way no matter how disastrous. It was the prefect temperature for once. Hot enough to be warm, but cold enough to be comfortable. The mentor and mentee had even managed to do some more strenuous exercises today now her fractured knee wasn’t causing any issues.

For once, the guards weren’t breathing down their necks and listening in on what should be private conversations. Though, between them, it was an agreed fact that the guards were preferable over the leeches constantly calling themselves the media. There weren’t any cameras being flashed in their faces, barrages of questions being shouted and no pictures being pushed at Adrien to sign. 

To top off their sudden spurt of luck, they’d even been given their favourite ice cream flavours with breakfast. Not at all healthy, sure, but it was apparently a congratulatory gift for making it through the first stage without switching roles.

However it couldn’t last forever. Just as all good things. When Nathalie opened her eyes, a strong flash of light invaded her vision. She had been comfortably used to the dimmer bulbs as of late, so she couldn’t help the wince. When she went to turn her head away from the new light, it didn't budge an inch. Strapped by something.

Groaning, she went onto assessment mode. She could still wiggle her toes and fingers. Always a plus. When she tried to lift her hands however, they too were stuck down, and she couldn’t even look to see the problem with her head pinned down by something too. She breathed in through her nose and exhaled slowly, trying to make sense of the events.

Where, how, when, what? Those were the important questions. The second question, she can vaguely remember. Adrien and her had been talking. The guards had suspiciously not came in to start the second stage. While they’d assumed it was still being set up, they’d clearly been wrong. Bait and switch. Did she faint? How? Had someone attacked her? She seriously doubted that. Besides, she felt fine. No new bruises, sores or scratches. After a few seconds of pondering, it finally came.

It must of been something in the food or water. Though from what she remembered, Adrien had drunk more than her and a lot earlier so he would’ve gone out first if it was the latter. It could’ve been the ice cream, but they could’ve chosen any flavour. It would be unpredictable to pick which one to taint.

She tugged at the restraints experimentally with her eyes still tightly shut. The surface was cool and metallic and they clung around her wrist. Her feet had the same situation. Probably straps or cuffs of some kind. No use trying to escape those. Her head must be held down the same too. She was laying on a smooth wooden slab. Defiantly a DIY table.

She went to crack an eye open, but had to close it immediately. No, she wasn’t just used to dim light. That was too strong. Despite the state she was in, she was completely relaxed. It was probably the drug still in her system.

She sighed in annoyance and realised she’d heard no sound from herself. Ah. She wasn’t just strapped down by the head, they was strapping noise cancellers around her ears too. Great. She could first assume sensory deprivation, but they would’ve wrapped her hands so she couldn’t feel anything and used a clip to pinch her nose so she couldn’t smell too. There was an importance that she wouldn’t be able to see and hear. But what?

Unless they didn’t want her preparing herself for anything. She couldn’t see and hear whatever attack they had coming this way. It would add the fear of unexpectedness. She didn’t have many answers until she felt a drop of water hit her hand that must of came from something. Instead of panicking like she half expected herself to, she simply sighed even harder.

At least her suit would finally be clean. Even without her hearing, she let out one sentence. “Watch out for dry drowning.” Probably not the average thing to say when you’re about to be what? Waterboarded? Chinese water tortured? Dunked? But the warning was better then nothing. The good doctor was probably on standby with an incubation kit anyways.

Sometime later, a dripping wet Nathalie shuffled into the room, blowing hair away from her face in agitation. Adrien jumped up from where he’d been nervously waiting. “Water?” He blinked, taking off his white over shirt and handing it to her to use as a temporary towel. “Water.” She repeated in affirmation, a slight shiver making its way through her voice.

She hummed, twisting her hair to strain the excess of water before stopping to think. “Well, it might still be the beginning of a sleep deprivation plan. I don’t know. Depends on what happens when they keep taking me. Next tine they better just walk me rather then slip me narcotics.” She corrected, brushing her hair back with her fingers. Being drugged was not a fun experience. She was far too lethargic most the time for her liking. It especially didn’t help when you had copious amounts of liquid thrown over you while still in that state. “Maybe they just want you to know that they’ll start using water and decided to be dramatic about it.” Adrien offered meekly. She contemplated it for a second.

It certainly made sense. Unless they wished to do another switch. Do this for a few days and vamp it up suddenly when she least expected it. Just in case, she wouldn’t get too comfortable with the seemingly easy stage that had begun. “I saved your lunch since you missed it. We’ll have to move the schedule forward.” He prompted, holding out the tray happily. “Thank you Adrien.” She nodded.

She ate in relative silence. The only sound filling their room was Adrien’s fist hitting the floor rhythmically in two’s. She would have to re-evaluate him for PTSD. He was showing more and more symptoms as the days passed like her own condition. Second hand trauma from her own debacle and first hand from this incident as a whole. It came to a stop after a few minutes and he looked up. “You know I could go-“ He started, but she was quick to see where it was going.

“You are _NOT_ taking my place, Adrien. You’re a _child_. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.” She explained again. “Neither should _you_!” He protested, almost sounding like a whining toddler. “This isn’t a thing _anyone_ should have to go through, but it _is_ happening. Right _here_. Right _now_. To _us_ and it is _my_ job to be _your_ _shield_. Your _protector_ to the _very_ _end_ no matter the _duration_ or _situation_.” She rationalised, taking off her glasses in anger and throwing them to the floor since she couldn’t see through the water droplets anyways.

“And for the love of _god_ , Adrien, If I am to _die_ here then I am _damn well_ going out _doing that_ rather then breaking down!” She snapped in finality. Adrien deflated slightly, staring at her in shock before the look softened into someone thing akin to sadness and concern. “You want to protect me. I get it, but you’re human too. Sometimes... we just need to let ourselves break, Nathalie. Maybe you just need to let yourself break too. Just for a moment. Long enough to release before it gets stuck up in your mind instead.” He worked out softly, gripping his pant leg.

“I can’t afford to do that right now.” She muttered. Adrien bit his lip. “You know what truly aches? Having so much inside you, but not having the slightest clue of how to pour it out because you keep it all bottled up since you know the responsibility is in your hands. It’s in your hands rubbing you like a lamp and you think your the only genie around that can and must rise without issue.” He recited, clenching his hands.

“But a bottle can only take so much before it cracks, Nathalie. We hide our emotions from those that need to know them the most to avoid causing harm or encore a conflict. Even if you have multiple bottles in there, you can put them away, but sooner or later you’ll run out of places to put your bottles. In your panic to find a spot, you’ll smash them all during the process without realising it. All those emotions dropped on that floor will come out in one mixed up form. A highly combustible, chemical compound that’ll explode as something foreign and very different from what they all originally were had you just let them out when they wanted to.” He continued when she made no move to speak.

“You keep it inside because you’d rather the pain destroy you then everyone else. If you don’t want me to take your place, I won’t, but I need you to talk to me because you can go through all this torture and walk out of here fine. Your mind however? You might not even be you anymore. You could’ve crafted yourself the perfect human to go through all these trails up there. I want to make sure you know I’ll be here. I’ll be right here for you Nathalie. 24/7. So if you think even for a second that you’re going through this alone, you’re sorely mistaken because I am going to be by your side whether you like it or not.” Adrien smiled, eyes glistening.

The area lapsed into silence until she finally began speaking. “I’m bottling up my emotions, my thoughts, my fears... everything.” She swallowed harshly, wiping the lenses idly. “I can feel the pressure from it building up and I know that if I don't let it out soon I'll explode. I just wish I knew how to open up enough and when it’s safe enough to do so. They’ll feed off my weaknesses. I can’t give that to them, so I don’t know when I can attempt to have breakdown without making matters worse.” She admitted, pushing her glasses back on.

Adrien shifted, resting his head on his knees. “First of all, know that crying is not a sign of weakness. Let out your tears, because stopping them will only lead to more emotional breakdowns in the future. Crying is perfectly normal at a time like this. Most the people in the world would’ve done that by now. Hell I’ve done that when you’ve been out. I can help you muster the courage to feel what actually exists inside you by teaching you the courage of an open heart. You’ve been kidnapped. The world is blaming you for said kidnapping. You’ve been tortured and will be tortured more in the coming days. Even through all this, you’ve kept me safe and sane.” He went and counteracted, straightening.

“Now you just need to let me help _you_ this time.” Adrien grinned comfortingly, turning a determined gaze to the woman. She looked down at her shaking left hand quietly. “Alright. Though I can’t promise it will do any good.” She sighed, almost inaudible. “ _Something_ is better then _nothing_ , Nathalie.” He chuckled in amusement. “I suppose you’re right, yes.” She smiled back.

31 days down 89 to go...

She wasn’t quiet so sure she could do this anymore...


	8. Markov Knows Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that while some are counting back and forward...
> 
> Just _one_ is counting guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Markov is smarter then the world combined and grief leads others to jump to conclusions...

There was no sound in Françoise Dupont high school during classes these passing days. Not even a whisper. Just mourning silence reverberating off the walls. One class in particular was the mellowest. The usually upbeat teacher? Sat by her desk trying and failing to keep spirits up. The students? Far too distracted to even try pay attention to the lessons being conveyed.

Then, a lone empty front seat that held a framed photo of the missing boy in question? Holding a barrage of flowers and wish cards by it. At first glance, a stranger oblivious to the high profile internationally spread case would’ve assumed he had died some horrible death and that was his shrine.

In truth, they couldn’t bare to see it without a subject. It didn’t feel right. So they filled it with pictures and flowers, hoping some day soon they could be removed in celebration and copious amounts of welcome home gifts that the elder Agreste hadn’t already given the boy can rest there instead.

They had to cling on, no matter as police views became grimmer and the case drew colder. It had only been a month or so and the authorities looked as if it had been years. Though maybe that’s just how bad this long of an absence actually is in the overall statistical standpoint. They could’ve asked Max or Markov, but they’d silenced themselves long ago of those stats as to not make matters worse.

A classmate missing? One thing. Kidnapped? Another. Kidnapped by the one person practically everyone in the class had met at least once? Met once or more and blindly trusted because Adrien loved that woman like his own mother? A whole new can of worms. Betrayal. That was all it could be put to. Cold stone betrayal running through their veins.

Markov however? Unlike the rest when it came to his opinions. It’s a statical impossibility that Miss Nathalie would of taken Adrien. Even if you argued improbable, there’s no motive. No evidence. No note. No call. No other indicators this is a ransom or personal kidnapping. Even in the best of kidnapping cases in which its an emotional reason, there’s always a trail. A witness. His case? None. They couldn’t find any CCTV since the car seemingly diverted because of a slow driver. Then it disappeared off the face of the Earth.

They hadn’t found the car. That was the most damning piece of confusion for the bot. No car. They assumed she had driven off, but the tracker in it was disabled according to the elder. If his research was correct, it’s a type that would’ve fried the engine if destroyed. They wouldn’t have anywhere to drive without a working car. If they’d ditched it, surely it would’ve turned up by now.

If they got it towed it would’ve been reported at a later date by the company when they realised who or what car they had matched the description. Plus, why would Adrien not have gotten the drivers help during this time? If he was incapacitated, it would’ve aroused suspicion. So he has to have been awake if they’d cone into contact with any other person. It didn’t add up. There was missing information or a missing case. The AI was leaning towards the latter.

It just wasn’t possible for Nathalie Sancoeur to have been the one to kidnap Adrien Agreste without the time, resources or knowledge it would’ve required for that fashion. He’d voiced this before and been brushed off for lack of evidence. Amusing since they didn’t have any evidence in return either, but belief is as good as any for humans when convinced enough. Markov wasn’t a human however, and the facts just weren’t right for what they claimed.

The only possibility was that they had been kidnapped together. At the same time. By someone with time and money to get rid of all the tracks. Though it wasn’t going to hold up in any police station. Just as stated before, you can be the smartest AI alive and still be thought of as a theorist for having no leads to go off.

This only confused the bot. Why could they be so quick to blame the nice assistant when the facts were presented for them right there stating otherwise? They didn’t have evidence either? Though maybe it was because it was easier to hear the first option. Easier to blame the nearest source. Easier to keep going with idea number one.

Not because it saved time or effort, but because they’d been crucifying that woman in their minds and outsides for so long, they just couldn’t live with themselves if they knew it had been all for no reason. If they’d thrown out gift and burned pictures since they couldn’t look at them the same it had destroyed memories. Memories that were actually good. If they’d called and texted awful things to her without good qualification, they would’ve hurt an innocent person and they didn’t want to face that idea.

What idea? The small idea they could be wrong and screwed up more then ever before. Sentiment. It got the better of the best of us. Markov let out a electronic sigh from Max’s bag. He’d have to let it go and hope the situation resolved itself over time. There was nothing to go off other then what he already had been told wasn’t enough.

The humans would have to realise their miss step before it got the wrong person killed or hurt. Realise it and do it... something in Markov’s processors told him that it might just be foreshadowing of an event to come. He wasn’t sure he liked that idea.

42 days of presumed guilt and counting...


	9. Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nathalie realises the hard way what the effects of stage 2 are and therapist Adrien is at it again

So she figured out the water. They'd strap her as usual. Blinding light meaning she was forced to keep her eyes shut to stop her eyes twinging in pain and have nose silencers cover her ears. Then they'd throw water over her randomly, startling her into awareness if she'd been thinking of other things or dozing off. Then having very little warning before they could suddenly drape a cloth over her face and she'd be waterboarded. Not a fun experience simulated drowning was all she'd say about that.

It didn't make any ideas about what the point was for a while. That was until now. Right now as she laid with her eyes closed trying to sleep in their silent holding room they snapped back open in a blind panic. She sat up hastily and looked around defensively for any incoming water sabotage. Yes it made perfect sense. This wasn't about the pain. It was about the emotional training.

They knew that if they could recreate a setting she would face nightly and do their usual, there would be a looming sense of dread whenever it actually came around. She couldn't sleep when she had been tricked into believing she could be drowned at any second when in those conditions. So it not only deprived her of more sleep then usual, but added to her growing night terrors, leaving her far more on edge in what should be one of her peaceful environments. Taking away yet another sanctuary.

It was the perfect torture wasn't it?

She didn't even notice that she had woken up Adrien who had ended up leaning on her in her stupor. The boy in question didn't think he could recall ever feeling pain quite like he was experiencing right now. Yes, he had been shot at several times by all sorts of dodgy akuma magic and even hit across Paris like a ping pong ball. Yes he'd been controlled, thrown into a freezer on two occasions. 

There was even the time one of the people his father had around on business when he was a child had committed suicide. The entire family had been quite close to the suited fellow from how much time they spent around them. He even babysat Adrien when his parents were going out for dinner. They all suffered the consequent guilt for failing to perceive any changes in the man's behaviour.

Yet, he will argue that nothing was as painful as seeing his genius of a self appointed parental figure assistant curled in on herself. She was shaking slightly, the heels of her hands pressed against her forehead as she tapped her foot nervously, looking about protectively.

"Nathalie?" The model hummed through the sleepy haze he was rubbing out his eyed as he sat up. While he didn't want to impose on the personal space the anxious assistant currently possessed, he wanted to ensure that Nathalie didn't feel as though she was alone. Shifting a little closer to the woman so that she knew he was there, Adrien reached out his hand and carefully placed it on her shoulder, squeezing the joint reassuringly.

"Nathalie, I don't know what's wrong. You might be like this for a good reason, but I need you to breathe evenly. You're starting to hyperventilate." He spoke softly. With a suddenness that startled the boy, Nathalie's hands shot out, clearly grasping for Adrien blindly. Taking the assistant's outstretched hands as a signal, he repositioned himself next to her so he could wrap an arm around her shoulders.

He'd expected some sort of panic attack sooner or later while they was here and had been attempting to prepare for it. Adrien carefully pulled Nathalie towards him, her shaking hands doing nothing to stop him as she fell against his chest. The woman clutched to his over shirt as though it was her lifeline.

"Not long now, Nathalie. Only 73 more days and we're home free." Adrien hummed in a voice that would usually be reserved for the young akuma victims they'd comforted after cleansing them. If someone had told him a few months back that he'd use it of Nathalie, he probably would've laughed.

"And the police will come and rescue us. We both know that meddling father of mine will be trying to track us everywhere so he'd probably show for the rescue." Adrien systematically patted the woman's back in the same rhythm her hand was tapping the floor in a bid to ground her.

"I can't do this." Nathalie pleaded in a strained voice, her speech fractured by the gasped breaths for oxygen that was interrupting each word. "Please. We have to get out. I can't keep this up." She sighed. Adrien frowned sympathetically. He wanted to take her place, but no matter how hard he tried, she remained statement of him staying far away.

"We will get out. You know we will." Adrien assured her, reflexively tightening his protective hold. "I'm sorry." The woman's tone was quiet and defeated. As if she was really starting to believe the chances of being saved was minuscule.

"Nathalie." Adrien spoke, his tone changing slightly to have more of a confident edge. "Don't think like that. We're going to survive this and you can go back to being a badass that can take on three akumas at once to defend me. Panic attacks aren't something that suit you." He grinned wholeheartedly.

"But you need to try and calm yourself down now. Hyperventilation isn't good for either of us right now. All it will do it make you pass out. Try and slow it down." He suggested, purposely keeping his voice level. "Do you think you can try do mine?"

Thankful for the new distraction, Nathalie straightened, focusing all her attention on watching the teen's chest rise and fall evenly, trying to coax her own into doing the same as she continued the rhythmic tapping.

"That's it. Keep doing that. You're safe." Adrien praised. The self proclaimed therapist held on to her spare hand, squeezing to provide a different form of stimuli to focus her attention on. That and hopefully prioritise it over her sudden irrational fear of dark silent spaces.

"Well done. Now I want you to do something." He prompted. "Start listing the periodic table in order for me. Can you do that or is it too hard?" Her eyes flickered in determination, a sign that Nathalie had taken the bait."Of course I can, Adrien. I was the one that taught you them."

Adrien had to smile at hearing the tone of voice she took, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. "So do it." He smirked. Nathalie chuckled and narrowed her eyes competitively. She began to deal them off. More then prepared to win.

By the time she reached Ununennium at the end, she had calmed down completely. Breathing no longer erratic and tapping stopped. She was quiet for a moment before speaking. "If you ever say that I have a panic attack to ANYONE, I will make you suffer a long terribly gruesome death." She warned. Adrien chuckled and poured her a drink. "I won't tell a soul. Scouts honour." He nodded, handing over the cup.

"I think it's the quiet. I can handle the dark, but when it's quiet at the same time? I just can't do it. When we're out, I'll have to start listening to music when I try to fall asleep from now on." She conspired after taking a sip. "You know I'll make you unpack all this in tomorrow's therapy session right?" Adrien smiled. The pointed glare he got back proved yes.

"You understand why I don't want you taking my place now? You can't have to go through all this." She questioned. "I could argue sitting here watching is somehow worse." He sighed meekly. Nathalie shrugged. "Suppose I never know because. You. Are. Not. Getting. Tortured. For. Me. I say this every week." She ground out.

"Traumatised people chronically feel unsafe inside their bodies. The past is alive in the form of gnawing interior discomfort. Their bodies are constantly bombarded by visceral warning signs, and, in an attempt to control these processes, the human system of self-preservation seems to go onto permanent alert, as if the danger might return at any moment.” He explained informatively.

“There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds. So I thought once about the theoretical. That if I could take your mind away, I would. I think it would help you fall asleep at night rather then stay awake in fear..." Adrien opened his mouth to say something else, but shut it again. His face closed for a moment, an unreadable emotion falling into place.

Nathalie shifted and looked up at the ceiling. "But it wouldn't help. It's a vicious cycle, Adrien. It wouldn't be fair. After _I_ fell asleep, _you'd_ be left awake with no one to help you sleep instead. Some things in the world just don’t have easy ways out. There are things you can’t have a hero in. You just can't." She corrected.

“The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane, Nathalie. We can do anything if we put our minds to it. We just have to make sure they don’t break in the process.”

47 days down 73 to go


	10. MIA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that while some are counting about the disappearance of a certain blond model, another is also counting about the disappearance of one mischievous cat... even if they can’t do it for very long without having to divert their attention

She couldn't believe this. She thought it was bad enough already. Adrien Agreste kidnapped and now this? She didn't know how to proceed. It was as if the rug had been pulled out from under her. She couldn't deal with two losses. She couldn't. If she had to pick who to save more, she didn't know. She didn't trust herself not to pick the right one out of pure sentiment.

* * *

_**Adrien Agreste: kidnapped** _

_**-** _

_**Chat Noir: MIA  
** _

* * *

She found out during patrol. Chat had been late and when she tried calling the certain blonde feline, two blaring words stared right back at her. No ringing that indicated somewhere across the city there was a baton ringing. Silence as you’d get if you’d called a disconnected number and a message.

* * *

**_ MIRACULOUS INACTIVE  _ **

**_-_ **

**_ PLEASE DISTRIBUTE _ **

* * *

  
Was he in trouble? Did he get it taken off him? Confiscated? Did someone break it? Was he actually dead? There were far too many possibilities running through the spotted heroines head. She had to face akuma alone. There had been an influx of people looking for Adrien lately. While Ladybug wanted to say Hawkmoth was preying on the weak at a bad time, the fact they didn’t try get her miraculous unless absolutely necessary to keep up appearances told her maybe even he was worried for the model.

Every transformation she’d try again, yet it never changed. Those four words almost mocking her as she left message after message and text after text for when he returned. It was times like this she wished Fu was still around. She could’ve asked if he was okay or if he’d given up his mantle as a hero. Now she was clueless. Part of her wishes they’d done the reveal before all this so she could at least check up on the boy.

His disappearance had all but been ignored since Adrien was being focused on so. The only people that really payed any mind in their grief was a few on the Ladyblog that didn’t take it any further then a curious comment to the hero’s absence.

Swinging her legs idly on top of their favourite spot on the Eiffel Tower, she hummed to herself, hands clenched on the Chat doll she’d made possessively. Had anyone pass in bc been listening hard enough, they would’ve heard small sobs echoing through the Parisian sky. “Where have you gone, you mischievous cat, and why did you leave me when I needed you the most?”

She couldn’t idle in this. She had to keep looking for Adrien anyways. It was police priority and by extent, hers. Find Adrien now, and then she can hit Chat at the back of the head whenever he decided to come back from the sudden hiatus.

48 days of two disappearances and counting...


	11. Three months... question mark? I lost count somehow... or not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which stage.... 3 begins, even though she was sure it wasn’t the third month yet, Adrien is taken for it, but that might not even be the third stage... but it is... but it could not be... she reminisces and...
> 
> When did everything get so confusing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally managed to break writers block! I’ve been stuck on this for far too long! Enjoy the chapter -GGLadybug

It was a slow process. Well, at least it felt like one since the days seemingly dragged by. She could account that to the trauma as the weeks just seemed to pass like nothing anyways. Freedom was quickly approaching, yet it still wasn't coming fast enough.

Sleep was a small mercy she had learned to worship. It was either impossible to acquire without passing out from exhaustion or broken into short intervals curtesy to her night terrors. A fact she couldn't escape in their daily therapy sessions. "Did you sleep well Nathalie? What were the nightmares about? Do you know why?" If the torture didn't render her insane, the questions surely would.

For Nathalie, it was just the average day they'd gotten used to. Everything was going according to the makeshift schedule they'd created and soon she would have to be dragged off to be borderline drowned all over again. She'd been walking around the cell, counting how many steps it took to get from corner to corner out loud when it happened.

Just as she was about to ask Adrien to do some math with her to keep his brain working, two of the goons entered harsher then usual. Rather then beckoning her over, they approached the duo instantly. Duo? What? That wasn't normal. Stepping in front of Adrien protectively, she felt a hand begin to pull her to the side.

"No no no! We have a deal! HEY! Get off of him!" She demanded. When she began to struggle, she landed a rather satisfying kick to the attacker's groin. The way he folded like a lawn chair was infinitely amusing on her part. She would've savoured it longer had it not been for the punch to her chest coming towards her. Yeah, she’d forgotten about the other man.

She wanted to dodge it, sure, but she wasn't fast enough. She hadn't eaten a solid diet in almost two months so it made sense after all. It knocked the wind straight out of her and sent her toppling to the floor. Was this the new stage? Was it already the third month? Had she miscalculated the amount of days she'd been counting? Why did they need Adrien? Was it not the third stage ad they was messing with her?

"Get off him!" She repeated while standing back up. She sprinted over to where the boy was being dragged away, fully prepared to tackle the men. Had Adrien made some sort of deal with the boss while she was asleep? Maybe they'd found out what the reward of his return was and went to go cash it in. Was he being let go? Was the uncertainty the new torture? Separation? As the door slammed shut in her face, she knew what the worst outcome could be out of those. This being the new torture. Isolated. 

She couldn't handle a full month without Adrien. She just couldn't. He was the one helping her sleep. Making sure she actually ate and drank since she'd grown a habit of forgetting. He was the one there to pull her out of whatever level of a panic attack she was having every time she needed it.

"Adrien? Adrien?!?" She begged, banging against the metal door with a renewed vigour. Trying to open the door harder then she had back when she'd first realised they were trapped, she paced nervously across the room. She didn't even notice she was pulling at her hair until the tie had come out. She could redo it later. She had more important things to do then that. Like try and get to Adrien.

Spinning back around and throwing herself against the vault like obstacle, she let out a string of angered curses at whoever could hear her. Everything had been going so well up until this point. She was calmer, getting more sleep and the goal of getting out what's fast approaching. Happy even, but she should of remembered that happiness was just a temporary high. Like drugs. Exactly like drugs actually. Same releases. Same input. Same output. Same endgame of inevitable withdrawal.

To think we can be in a state of happiness for the entirety of our existence is naïvety. That isn't the case. It's never the case. Happiness lasts for only a limited time. What goes up must come down. Life had taught her otherwise when she was younger. Even as she ironed the habit out when she got older, the mannerisms still stuck around every so often. 

TV shows? Movies? The guy gets the girl, no one gets hurt, everyone is healed, a Prince Charming sweeps in. The whole package deal helping her think eventual happiness is always possible. She's a fool for falling for faux possibilities again. This was such a fairy tale though. Wasn’t it? Living the perfect life, even as a part time supervillain, and then being stolen away. Tasked with protecting the boy it was your job to keep safe and raise in absence of anyone else. Happiness is a dangerous expectation to bestowed upon society.

Hell, even Adrien did all that at the best of times. Especially whenever Cinderella came on. He’d gush about soulmates and love. She was sure the boy was harbouring quite the crush on someone and was working on trying to find a way to make the perfect declaration like the movies and animes portrayed it as.

Those films made everyone believe that one day a protagonist would rescue you from sadness. It's no coincidence that the tale always ends at the same point. We aren’t privy to the fact half of all marriages end in divorce or that statistically, surely someone should of suffered with postpartum depression. Yet that doesn't exist in our world we created, so we ignore it.

Then the credits roll. It’s because of those final shots that we forget a happy moment is just that. A happy moment. They're going to end eventually. Life working well? Adrien safe? Herself dealing as best she could? Not dead? Going to get out soon? Pretty happy right? End the story there and we still have questions, but it's good.

Then as the shot fades out, the bad stuff finally happens. Stuff we never get to see because the curtains have already drawn to a close and the theatre emptied. This was her happy breaking moment. Pacing again, she had to make a plan. Anything would do. She just needed to get Adrien back.

Endorphins were probably the only thing helping her power through not only the pain but the process. They pushed her towards a distant goal. Today, her goal didn’t seem all that distant anymore. Adrien had been taken from her watchful eye. She had no way to know his state. So that gave her more reason then before to find an escape.

Optimism. That's Adrien's trait more than anything. She’d have to use it for a while because she needs to remain positive no matter the obstacle. Looking at the bright side of things was something the boy had often tried teaching others to do, now she had to harness it. Optimism may be her thing.

Okay, a complete lie. She would most definitely loose any kind of end of the rainbow attitude the moment she got back to Paris. When have the odds ever been in her favour realistically? When had any plan she made as of late actually done so? Becoming a widely wanted domestic terrorist supervillain accomplice wasn’t on her list of career choices originally, but here she was.

Sooner or later, they'll be out of here. She’ll be sat at her desk and doing her best to avoid the hugs and tears that accompanied the inevitable welcome back party someone would throw for them once the police mess was cleared up. A meaningless party she wouldn’t even want to attend seemed rather appealing to her right now over this.

She'll be back with her acquaintances and friends. Even if she’d hold the blackmail of them openly blaming her for a few more months then necessary. She'll be home with her things. In her room. With her tablet. God she missed her tablet. Her tablet and her stupid schedules uploaded on them that would end up changed or discarded by the end of the day courtesy of Gabriel’s Hawkmoth endeavours.

Believe it or not, she's even excited to be in the middle of one of his akuma attacks sooner or later. Something so utterly _Paris_. Something so _home_. A sight she couldn’t see anywhere else but _there_. She has to believe she will do those things sooner or later as she brainstormed a plan. Wasn’t thinking believing as they say?

**She didn’t even know how many days there were left anymore... and despite all things... that kind of scared her...**


	12. Drives and Panic Attacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we realise that sometimes counting the days aren’t all that important, because a man just misses his god damn son
> 
> Or put less eloquently...
> 
> Gabriel is a mess and rightfully so, he finally allows himself to breakdown because he seriously had to have a moment at some point, Nooroo being worried for his morally ambiguous master, a perfectly innocent windshield being killed in action courtesy of Gabriel.exe has stopped working and a clue is finally recovered because of it

He was a mess. A fact Gabriel would openly admit if pointed out because he was. He was limping. He had been for at least a week. That was courtesy of tripping over a pothole while searching roadsides for any sign of Adrien. That sent him tumbling over the edge and into some less then accommodating rocks. It was getting less prominent, but implication of an injury was still there. It wasn't even noticeable unless he was walking rather quickly.

There were many other new additions. Sudden restlessness, yet he was also so tired. It looked like he wasn't getting any sleep as of late. Well, he wasn’t, so he supposed it made sense. Then the apathy he was showing. It wasn't the same indifference he had held before. It was as if he didn't care about most things. Well, he didn’t. Nothing mattered to him now unless it was a lead. If there was something else of blaring importance on his shoulders, he'd hum a quick you decide the course of action whenever there was a decision of any gravity.

It was the little things. The tiny barely noticeable little things that were rolling up into a massively glaring conclusion of a man barely holding himself together. So what else could he do but admit it because he couldn’t bring himself to care about lying. It was either, Adrien, send out an akuma with tracking abilities or rescue search. That showed his mental state pretty well actually.

His sin list was long long enough to warrant some sort of punishment. He was a terrorist for literal sake. The universe seemed to have finally decided on cashing that debt in by taking his son. His entire mind would forever be taken up by the guilt of losing him. How cliche. It sounded like a movie villain one liner. Though he supposed that rather was accurate all things considered. He gripped his stylus tighter and shook his head dismissively at the thought. He was trailing off.

When he catches a glimpse of the empty nearby desk, he only just about reads the name stand on it before he was glaring. He breezed over and picked it up. Golden background clearly, proudly and elegantly pronounced who the owner was. Mocking him.

_Nathalie Sancoeur_

Grimacing, he didn’t just toss it in the trash like he was going to at first. It would still be there. He couldn’t handle it being there. Claiming territory. Throwing it out the window may have been a bit extreme on his part, but it did make him feel a hell of a lot better.

He just goes back to his work and pretends like nothing happened after that. He just had to make it through the days, and he can break down whenever he liked. Until then, he'll just keep reading up on law books and let out any pent up emotions by sending out an akuma and shouting more then necessary when attempts to look for missing people didn’t work well enough.

Of course, Nooroo was mercifully silent before and after whenever he transformed. The whole meant for good speech forgotten. While still a bit morally ambiguous, he was at least only focusing on the case and using the miraculous as a front for it. The kwami seemed more than happy to allow the wielder to use the outlet to do so. Placing down the stylus he was honing, he sighed heavily and closed the tab about character assessment. 

Leaning back in his chair, he chuckled to himself. He was so good at that. Freakishly so, even. He could tell you in a heart beat what models, photographers, designers and agents were on the clean side of the industry and which ones were going to be fired with their names slipped to the police by the hour from a single glance. Yet he couldn’t even see the betrayal of Nathalie coming from a mile away.

Gabriel placed his head in his hands before finally leaving the room after basking in his stupidity for a moment. As the door shut behind him, he vaguely registered the fact that the one person he felt safe and a sense of normalcy around ended up the same one that instilled the complete opposite. It was almost ironic.

If he had talked to her more, would this not have happened? If he had been worse would she have just killed Adrien rather then take him? Was she doing this because he didn’t spend enough time with him? If he’d paid her more attention, could he have become the target? Gabriel thinks he would of preferred it if he’d been kidnapped in place. That way he’d know Adrien was at least safe. Was the boy thinking the exact reverse at that very moment? Was he thinking at all? Was he dead?

He needed to get out of that house. He just had to. No explanations, no reasons whatsoever. His constructed idea was more than enough. He couldn't stand being in a place with so many memories of Adrien and Nathalie. He couldn't stand the pictures. The rooms left untouched like someone had still been in there since he still hadn’t brought up the courage to go in. Just thinking about it broke him.

He had to practically beg his body to actually put one foot in front of the other. He didn't really want to. He had to. It's haunted. Not with ghosts. It's haunted with something much more earth shattering and heartbreaking to him. Radiating from his office, the halls, the rooms and the furniture was memories.

As he reached the main foyer, Gorilla was stood where he was usually perched by Adrien’s door. A force of habit neither man was willing to break anytime soon. When Gabriel had asked the man, the text he sent in response sent the designer into yet another spiral Nooroo had to pull him out of after stumbling to his room. He’d saved it, actually. Screenshot it and wrote it down just in case.

* * *

**_I stand by the door because Adrien likes sneaking out. Maybe he’ll find a way to sneak back in sooner or later. I keep his speakers playing piano music just in case, boss. He always gets back in the end -G_ **

* * *

Ouch to say the least. He hadn’t expected him to be quite so sentimental, but he wasn’t complaining. Gorilla grunted questionably. “I’m going out for a drive.” When the bodyguard tilted his head in shock, he’d almost laughed had it not been for the situation. He hadn’t even drove by himself like he planned in what? Three years? He either stayed in far too much, used a chauffeur or simply walked.

Gabriel would be more surprised if he remembered how to even use stick shift. He’d figure it out along the way or take one of the automatics for simplicity’s sake. “I’ll be back in ten. Thirty max.” He assured, confining towards the garage. The bodyguard nodded, message if stay safe clear.

Continuing his half walk half sprint, he soon finds himself grabbing a key at random from the cork board. Holding it high, he clicked the button andunlocked the waiting car, watching for a flicker of lights in the row of vehicles. Then just like that, he's releasing pressure from the clutch and driving away through the open door. The roar of an engine moved away from the front of the manor. A resonating sound the neighbours probably hadn’t heard for three years since the sport cars just weren’t used anymore.

He hadn't even got a mode of compass on his way out. No GPS. No map. No intentional destination. Let alone someone or somewhere to seek refuge at. He's just driving blankly, turning at random intersections and ignoring directional signs. Driving with a mind that's empty with darkness. Actually, that's a blatant lie. His mind was racing with thoughts from all directions.

He didn't know what else to do other than drive to feel even remotely safe or okay. No one had ever told him that one day he'd be in this predicament. He’d been taught about Egypt sure, but he would’ve killed for a kidnapped child module in school these days. Gabriel had forgot Nooroo was in his pocket until the kwami nestled onto his shoulder comfortingly. No words. Not even an exhaled breath. Just that.

Then, he's bursting out into tears for no reason whatsoever. A thing he’d probably never live down, but he didn’t know what else he could do. He’d looked and he’d looked and there had been nothing. Akuma after akuma yielded no result. The over worked police constable? Missing person help desk worker? He was using anyone he could find.

His one mercy was that Ladybug was making no move to stop the akumas he was creating until absolutely necessary. Clearly she was seeing the good to come of the flood of people aggravated trying to find a missing boy with their time rather then destructing the city. She’d give each one a few hours before freeing them.

Right now, he's hanging onto the hope that this could be a bad dream. A horrible nightmare that he'll wake up from any minute now. There was a wave of emotion that passed over him then. He's almost sure it's Nooroo's work since the tears slow to a stop and his mind suddenly isn't so clouded with thoughts. Empathy. Right. He could do that.

The waves are voicing the words he cannot dare say. It's telling him that someone had stolen and ripped something deep and intangible away from him. Something irreplaceable and that the kwami was going to stick around no matter what happened to make it better.

As he eventually calmed down to a better state then before with the extra boost, his hands gripped the steering wheel tight as he shook his head of the intrusive thoughts. Running is easy. Running from what he doesn't want to face is child's play. It's himself that he doesn't want to face the most. Only because it's much too painful to look at him. Gabriel was strong. A fighter. He's never helpless. But those aren't even the worst sights. No, it's how he so desperately clung to the wheel like he was relying on it to live. Hell, he probably was.

It hurts too much to look at himself and that's why he's running. It hurt too much to see and hear what had happened. It hurt. It hurt like nothing he's ever felt before. This pain, it's incomparable. It was exactly like when Emilie had fallen into a coma. Yet there was forever uncertainty and betrayal mixed with it, turning it into something else. That was grief. This? It hurts his very soul harder. Everything inside him is burning in raging flames.

He's making a left turn on the foresty backroad a diversion had taken him to, flooring the gas pedal just above the legal limit lest he be pulled over in such a state. He was waiting to see where this endless and empty road would take him. Really, he's just numb. There are unwanted images in his head, soul crushing conversations that he's never wished he hadn’t had before so much in his life.

It's so loud. It's echoing through his very skull. It's making the hairs on the back of his neck stand and he just stops everything that he's doing altogether. He stops driving, letting go the wheel and pressing abruptly on the brakes. He stops his lungs from getting in a breath as he's jerked forward slightly in his seat, belt compressing his chest. He stops it all.

He can't do anything to stop it. So, he screams it in his head. When that only causes it to get louder, he talks aloud, unable to stop himself. "Damn it!" He shakes his head, vigorously to stop the echoes. The sound waves are one after the other, continuously in a loop. He's never hated his own name so much before. "Damn it! Damn it damn it!" He clamps his hands over his ears. It isn't even helping.

Screwing his eyes shut to ward off the approaching panic, he just worsens the blow. It's making him sick to his stomach and dizzy with rage. He muttered curses, leaning over the steering wheel defeatedly before his body is shaking with sobs again. It only gets worse, Nooroo unable to offer assistance. He had to have a break down at some point he supposed. It was a matter of time. With everything going on then doubled with the whole suppressed wife thing, he had a lot on his plate.

"Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" He balled his hands into fists and with each and every shout, slammed them onto the wheel or dashboard retrospectively. "Stop it!" He's going to kill her when they catch her. He didn't think it would help a damn, but he's going to anyways.

He couldn't before because he physically couldn't. He wasn't there when it had happened. He couldn't have stopped it. How can you stop a kidnapping gene your on the other side of town? There's nothing he could have done. Right? He just didn't know. 

No it was worse. Really, he didn't know why he'd trusted Nathalie in the first place. It was a stupid decision. Clearly such a stupid decision. Look at him? He was minus one son and in the throe of what he could only assume was what a panic attack felt like. Nathalie. Natalie. Nathalie. Jesus, so many people had that innocent name, yet he suddenly hated it with a burning passion.

His thoughts came to a sudden halt when his hand slammed against the windshield harshly, causing a shattered dent. While it cut his hand and obscured his view, he supposed it was better then breaking a window next to him and covering half the car in a million pieces.

Nooroo let out a worried squeak. Zipping over and assessing the damage to his extremity worriedly. He dropped his hand to the side dismissively, the kwami followed it, continuing to look it over. He stared at the addition blankly. That one was going to be a hard one to explain. Flying rock that just so happened to leave my blood perfectly on it? Flexing his bleeding hand, he sighed and went into first gear, fully intending to set off again in the opposite direction.

Just to stop and stare at a car that had come into light just beside the indent. The back was dented and it was far away from the main road. He almost thought it had been run off the road at first before noting it had been neatly pulled off to the side. Thinking nothing of it and assuming it was just a damaged vehicle that pulled in he prepared himself to confine onwards.

Wiping his hand down his trousers, he pressed his foot on the accelerator. As he passed the discarded car, his eyes just caught the number plate for a fleeting moment. Then, for the second time that night, he slammed his foot back down on the brakes and got out in a hurry. Right there was the missing Agreste car and it was only a couple minutes away from his house the whole time. He wasted no time in dialling the detective.

**Days passed? Who cares. Adrien is still not here so it’s irrelevant. Clues found? One. Injuries? Two.** **Adrien? Please just be okay**


	13. Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nathalie is spiralling and she definitely isn’t rambling to keep herself afloat... not at all... god she needed therapy

She doesn’t really have a preference at who she wanted to scream right now, but she just needs to. She wants to scream at the world to stop being so complicated for once in her life and allow her to have it easy. She wants to scream at herself to stop being so out of character as of late.

Even if she just gets to shout at Adrien and remind him not to leave her alone. That she’s sorry for everything that had happened. Everything she failed to do. Then again, she wouldn’t know how to say it. Or what the after conversations would be. So she doesn’t. Ever more the coward.

She wondered if she could ever tell him that the pain never really subsided from the first stage. She didn’t know if that was because she still got knocked around too much for the bones to heal or if it stemmed from something psychosomatic. She would of already asked the good doctor about it, but she’s couldn’t be sure that this phenomenon wasn’t too abnormal. If it was, they could end up going onto Adrien for a month in fear of her dying too early. She couldn’t have that. Or was it already happening?

She’d lived this way for a long time. At least, it seemed like it. Two months was hardly an eternity, but perception of time was a strange thing. It was all influenced based on if your happy, miserable or bored. Adrien was her only half decent marker on the amount of days passing since he actually managed to sustain a normal sleeping schedule.

It had been a grand total of what she believes to be two days of Adrien’s mysterious separation and she was all over the place. She hadn’t even managed to handle a few minutes well, how was she meant to continue this for any longer? She refused to sleep. Not until Adrien walked back through those doors large as life. The month should of been exactly like the others, but the universe was stacking the odds against them wasn’t it? It couldn’t let her have one stable thing without pulling it out from under her. 

Now she thought about it, her mind was trailing off left and right, trying to find some connections, connotations, distractions in places they just weren’t. She was doing anything to stop herself from going into a full blown panic. Well, outward panic. Alarm bells were ringing far too often in her inner dialog today.

It doesn't matter if nothing is done to Adrien in the real world, Nathalie just couldn’t stop herself from imagining all the worst case scenarios in vivid detail. Were they torturing him as she sat safe sipping on water? Had they already killed him? She was never this worried about anyone in her entire life. She’d been less concerned whenever Gabriel got himself injured fighting the heroes.

She supposed that was just because she had an easy out. In Paris, there was a fix it. It was another of a growing list of bad movie cliches in her life. Just two words brought everything back to normal in a flurry of red and black ladybugs. Hurt? Not anymore. Dead? Think again. Effected by a spell? Reversed.

In here, everything was far more realistic. Damage was damage. Blood was permanently spilled, left to stain and death? Well, simple as that. Death was death. Only a fool would try and find a way to take that back, but she had to stop that train of thought. Before more possibilities invent themselves.

Adrien was an anomaly. That was a good thing to address. The boy had somehow weened his way into her closed off heart. A fact the little ward shared with his father perfectly. Really, she had to stop getting sentimentally attached to angsty blondes with too many issues to count. They found ways to break through her practiced neutrality no matter how much she tried to distance herself. They were the closest thing she’d had to family for a while.

It really was something she ought to share in their daily therapy sessions. Just how much she was willing to scream at the world about how afraid she was to lose that emotionally bestowed family she’d constructed for herself. Even to just confess about how she could barely handle the fact one of them already blamed her for the kidnapping and the other was in an unknown amount of danger every second.

She wanted nothing more than to yell at their captors and demand him back immediately. That or take her to him instead of waiting and making everything more painful for herself, but she doesn’t. She can’t make herself do it because she’s too sick with worry to trust herself with the new task and not faint.

She finds herself thinking about just ending this arrangement. Whether that be rampaging every living soul in this god forsaken compound and only succeed in risking not only her, but Adrien’s life or shooting herself and praying they take him back since the experiment couldn’t possibly be continued if they was a participant down.

It’s selfish, but she didn’t have any other ideas. Adrien would never forgive her too if she sacrificed her own life. It was bad enough she was taking the brunt of their torture as it was. He constantly complained about her stubbornness, so she dreaded to think what his ideology in her becoming a martyr today would be.

On top of everything, she hates thinking too. It’s like her new mortal enemy. Every drop of time spent locked alone in this room was another minute spent staring at the ceiling with her brain spiralling out of control. If this really was the third months activity, her brain would be all that she had. So it didn’t help nor could it be good that it betrayed her often.

Where was she actually going with all of this talk anyways? She surely had a point she was trying to make. Strange. The common rambling was something she would probably have to iron out later. She’ll have to iron out a lot of new habits.

This was losing her mind, wasn’t it? Finally she was seeing herself unravelling in her own little way of long paragraphs and internal monologues that got further and further away from the original point she was raising the longer she did it. Did it even make sense to any outer source? Was it all gibberish and she didn’t even know it? Did it sound like very other structured breakdown you could find? She couldn’t endure another 27 days of this. 27 or 28? She really needed Adrien’s internal clock right about now. 

Very suddenly, she realised something with a start. She was lonely. She had never been lonely before. Perhaps it was the trauma. People that go through something together for a long period of time end up being dependant on each other. Mentally unable to live casually without knowing where the other was. She remembered Adrien mentioning it once during their sessions.

She’d never been lonely before. She was sure of it now. When she was younger, she hadn’t understood society’s need for human interaction so chose to live a life in preferred solitude. She spent her childhood on her own. With no siblings and parents out the picture, she didn’t have much to go with anyway. Libraries and the garden or park was a favourite of hers to escape the world.

The other students at school didn’t like her at all since she’d always been far too introverted and sarcastic for their tastes. She didn’t complain about that and never would. They were dull and infuriating. She’d learnt to fight at an early age, and fight well, so the bullies that had come her way never lasted very long before running.

University, as it turned out, wasn’t interesting or at all academically challenging enough as it was made out to be. She had no need for the emotional attachment, so she continued her solitary existence. There was no reason to question it all if the system worked well for her.

Being Gabriel’s assistant had meant to just be a job to get her through the first of her work years to gain experience and a good referral. They’d gone to the same school, even if he was four years above and out long before her, so it wasn’t as if it was too new of an environment for her. Then she’d stuck around. They proved to be a far superior group then anyone else she’d had encountered, so why leave if she actually liked her assigned post?

Not once had she experienced the feeling she had right now. Not even for a moment. She’d been more than satisfied her entire life when it came to the social department. The feeling was an enigma. She knew it would be temporary, but she wanted to solve the new puzzle laid out before her. Even if only to pass the time and render her brain just a bit quieter.

She was doing the thing again, wasn’t she? Damn it. She didn’t even know if that made any sense then. Days passed? Not a clue... she’d figure it out at some point. Life? Not going very well.


	14. Detective Jack Claude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that two and two can be put togther, but that doesn’t mean it automatically adds up right

Jack Claude very rarely participated the search of a cornered off scene these days. Unless there was a higher commander nearby, he was the man ordering and managing. However, just this once, he was more than happy to throw himself into the action alongside several other officers, forensics, detectives and technicians when the chief came about. High profile required all hands on deck after all.

Yet again, someone had obviously leaked the discovery to the press. That or the paparazzi had followed any flurry of red and blue lights they could find to grab a story and called for reinforcements when they realised just what they'd come across. He couldn't be sure.

The flickering of flashing cameras and monologues of several newscasters filled the silencer that wasn't being taken up by their busy muttering. They were currently sifting through the inside and outside of the car tentatively. Forensics were looking for any unknown finger prints or trace amounts of blood while the others were trying to look for some sort of new evidence that hadn't been destroyed or taken. Whether that be a receipt for anything out of country that could give them a solid lead or old tire tracks that hadn't been decimated by rain.

He glanced over at the tape where Gabriel Agreste stood anxiously. He was listening to what one of uniforms was telling him attentively as he bit on the end of his nail nervously. If the look on the man's face indicated anything, he seemed like he needed a good nights sleep and a couple therapy sessions, but he could address that in the welfare check they'd do tomorrow.

He opened the boot once he snapped on some gloves and began looking. "Can I have some evidence bags over here?!? Big ones!" He shouted as he pulled out what looked to be the boy's school bag and Miss Sancoeur's purse. An officer soon came over, holding open the largest ziplock they had open helpfully. This could help. They could look in them later and hopefully find a note or some type of clue.

Shutting it closed again, it was the momentary moment that gave him what this was all about. As the metal of the plate reflected against a camera light, it bounced off. A small thin glint catching his attention. Kneeling down on the floor, he looked under the car curiously daring to hope for something that wasn't just a dropped cent. 

Just as well. There was two syringes that clearly had been kicked under dismissively. Reaching for them, he jumped back up and held them against the light. Right on one if the needles was the remnants of blood from a rather forceful injection. The other one held some of the liquid left in it. "Forensics! Get over here! We've got an unknown substance and a blood sample. Get these bagged, tested and photographed as soon as possible please."

This was an important piece of evidence. It had to be. Now, the question was, why were there two? If Sancoeur drugged the boy into submission to get him to another getaway vehicle, why was there two? Why be impractical and waste time with the element of surprise? Why not just get a bigger syringe if it couldn't hold the amount needed for the target effect?

As those were taken from his grasp, he stared at the damage done to the back of the car. Bad driving? No. Impossible. The out of place red paint meant it was from a separate collision rather than hitting a tree when reversing. They would've found someone's information written down on a note if that was so. Was it just a case of opportunity? Had she gotten hit and asked Adrien to look so she could execute the plan sooner rather then later?

No. That still didn't sit right with him at all. What they'd assumed couldn't be right. She was a smart woman. Even if she did decide to do it the hard way, she wasn’t stupid enough to just leave that evidence under the car. She would’ve taken them with her or disposed of them appropriately. They would have to start over, practically from scratch. Fortunately he knew just where to begin. Those sketchy syringes. He’d put a run on those tests. All he could do right now was wait and ignore the gut feeling growing that something big was at play they didn’t understand.

Two and two just wasn’t adding up today...


	15. Indecisiveness Isn’t An Option

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cliches making Nathalie want to throw herself into the Seine, unravelling making a second comeback and her kind of wishing it had actually just been separation as she’s faced with the overdramatised introduction to stage three

When she was finally stormed upon in a similar fashion to Adrien, she didn't know if she should be happy about it or not. As she was blindfolded, she derived an answer out of two possibilities. She was about to meet a grisly fate, or she was about to meet Adrien. Though it was obvious which one she preferred, it couldn’t be bartered.

The cool metal of a knife pressed against her skin was rather startling since she couldn’t see, but it wasn’t too surprising. Nathalie could also guess who it was. It was probably one of the brawny goons. No doubt tasked to keep her in place.

The back of his blindfold was finally untied and light filled his vision. Thankfully it wasn’t the same blinding one she had become accustomed to. For a few seconds, she had to blink away spots until her vision cleared.

"Sorry for the delay. We had to find exactly what we needed." The boss apologised with a playful smirk. She really was tempted to ask for a name for this one. She could give everyone else around her grouped titles, but calling him the boss just didn’t sit right.

She evidently hadn’t been tied to a chair or chained up to some wall this time.!That could only mean they wanted her free moving, but that just didn’t make any logical sense. They were risking her escape or attack. "You look confused! You want to know where you are and why you‘re here, don’t you?" The boss clapped in amusement.

Nathalie glared at him for a wary moment before deciding she was meant to actually talk. "I wouldn’t attest otherwise if that information become clear." She deadpanned, eyes roaming around the room. It was entirely barren. The walls were still concrete grey. Not a single one was free of some sort of worn chip or crack.

A single fluorescent light strip was lining the middle of the roof. It was the only source of light from the lack of windows, yet the consistent humming it made was tempting her to smash it by the second just to achieve silence.

The only thing that broke the pattern of old bareness was the large brand new mirror fixed on the wall across from where she stood. It screamed cliche interrogation room. She swore, if one more cliche came into her life, it would be too soon. Was it possible for one terrorist group to be so bad they were a walking movie? At a stretch she could call them that. It was more like a trashy rushed book sequel. It was as if they were built into society solely to make her life more difficult.

The prison vibe they’d created coupled with the seemingly random mirror placement would probably end up meaning someone was on the other side. Whom could see and hear whom was the question however. Her eyes must of conveyed her question since the boss was answering.

“Oh that little thing. You’re right if you think it’s a one way window.” He chuckled. Raising her eyebrow in annoyance she looked at him pointedly. Nathalie was placed in a position where all of her power laid on her tongue. All her power and all her demise. If she said the wrong thing, she’d just end up with the wrong outcome she was aiming for, so she had to tread lightly yet still assert dominance. If she submitted, that would simply be weakness, but if she didn’t, that would be defiance.

Her quick wit and scathing vocabulary had come in handy growing up. Especially when she entered the fashion world when people would try to make her feel inferior on a daily basis. Merely an occupational hazard when working in close quarters with other brands. That’s without even taking into account Style Queen as a whole too.

Over the years, she was proud to admit she had refined the craft. A perfect mix of passive aggressiveness, politeness, and annoyance worked in several situations. That and she has already defined just what to say behind locked doors and what to divulge others in aloud.

Using that skill, she knew that this was one of those moments where it was best to rant about it to someone later rather then to the problem’s face. She’d complain preferably to Adrien, but she had no clue where he’d disappeared to, so she’d stick to herself for now.

“We’re on the receiving end. Through that room is god knows who and we’re the lab rats.” The boss explained fluently, pointing to a device she hadn’t originally noted in the top right corner. It was definitely some type of microphone. Probably so those on the other end could hear them.

“Now I’m not going to tell you the actual consequences for a decision you’re about to make. All I’ll say, is that for everyone one, you get to send out one clue however you wish.” Wow. Okay that was unexpected, she’d give them that. “Any clue? Any person? Any platform?” She tested in confusion.

“Yep! Any way you want, girly! Just pick and choose from your boy’s phone and off you go! But you still need to do the task first!” There it was. The but. “Well what is it?” She probed, sensing he wanted her to ask it. “I’ll just ask you left or right and I’ll make you choose. One leads to greater consequence, but you still get that clue no matter what! It’s a fun little game I made up myself! I’m sure you’ll love playing it.”

Well... that was uncomfortably vague. “That isn’t a game. That’s chance.” She protested, head tilted as best she could past the blade keeping her check. “No no. It’s a game of chess and this is my move.” The boss grinned, moving over to the mirror and pulling out a white board pen to circle the right side.

She startled as she caught onto his idea. “You get it now. Don’t you? Was the side I just circled really the choice you should make, or am I bluffing? Or double bluffing? Maybe even triple bluffing? Now it’s your choice. Your move.” This stage was still so unclear. She wasn’t being told everything. She didn’t like not being told everything.

“What’s the drawback?” She tried, only to get a smile back. “The beauty is that you’ll never know until after. You can only make educated guesses.” Damn it. This guy could read her like a book. She couldn’t handle possibilities right now. Not with Adrien still no where to be seen. She looked back and forth between the two options she had.

He’d smiled on the bluffing. Liars like getting away with lying. Her best bet was to go for the opposite of he’d marked out. “Left. I choose left.” Nathalie decided determinately. Almost immediately after she’d finished that sentence, the mirror filter was flickered off, going from her reflection to a window to another room. Perhaps that’s why it took so long to set this stage up, because they was buying the equipment they needed.

Seeing Adrien tied up on the left and a random girl she’d never seen before tied up on the right hadn’t been a welcome sight however. She also it lunges toward the glass to ask Adrien if he was okay had the knife digging into her neck not been there. Suddenly the entire choice made much more sense.

“Congratulations. You saved your boy. Now comes the hard part for you. Just how exactly do you want us to kill her?” No no no. Backtrack. This wasn’t making sense. Sense out the window. Was this just her kind spiralling again or was this all actually happening? Her stunned expression did all she needed.

“Oh but of course. Those are the consequences! The one you don’t pick must die. What better way to introduce it then like this? Don’t worry, from here on out, you’ll get to pick knowingly. It’s just far easy to get you to cooperate when you don’t know what’s going on.” He laughed.

Suddenly, Nathalie was glad she couldn’t hear the girls cried begging as she was untied and forced to stand up. She could of picked Adrien. She could of killed him. The separation was because they was preparing. Had they kidnapped enough people to fill the entire month? “Go on. Tell us how to kill her!”

“You can’t be serious.” She snapped, glaring harshly at the man. “Oh... deadly so!” He joked, stupid grin on his stupid face in this stupid room with this stupid stage and this stupid concept. When did she get so spiteful? No. Not even that. She couldn’t even claim that was anger. When did she get so hysterical?

Who was she kidding, she reached hysterical long ago...

“You said I get a clue....” She began before quietening. “Can I transfer this one into a request?” Nathalie finalised after a moment, not to sure if this would be let through. “I don’t see why not.” The boss hummed in interest. “Always take Adrien out the room when I decide. Every time. So he doesn’t have to see. That for the sacrifice of the first clue. Deal?”

She’d always been good at bartering. “Not what they usually go for! How Nobel.” He mused while snapping his fingers. She almost deflated in relief when one of the goons was on soon dragging the boy back out on the other side of the glass.

There was no more use in running. This task was something she had to face and right now. “Just... don’t let her suffer.” She gave in after a moment. The sudden splatter against the mirror startled her into awareness out of whatever dissociation she’d been trying to put herself in the moment she said those words.

It took her far longer then it should of to realise the crimson liquid wasn’t simply water and the smoking gun barrel in the hand of one of the men told all the story she needed to know. Right. This wasn’t separation. The stage had never been separation.

Nathalie didn’t quite know if she wanted it to be that now or not... it certainly beat killing innocent civilians. No. It wasn’t her doing it. Even if she felt like she was behind the gun. She wasn’t. That was what they wanted. All she had to remember was her only task that was worth a damn was protecting Adrien. Everything else could go to hell. Huh... guilt and building a mind set of apathy.

To be honest, she didn’t know how to end a lot of her inner monologues anymore about what was happening. What could be so neat and wrapped up by the end of the day in an easily digestible explanation didn’t... feel correct. How could she possible convey this into words? It was as if there was something constantly missing or lodged in the way.

As she was dragged back to their room, where she hoped Adrien would be now it had finally started, she couldn’t help but see that red blood whenever she closed her eyes to blink. Even if that would wash away by tomorrow afternoon, something told her she’d be seeing it in her dreams for a lot longer. The therapy sessions she’d inevitably have would be big ones, won’t they? She could only pray for mercy on the poor soul tasked with her sound of mindless later.

**Though really. If there was a god out there, what the hell happened to this being easy and workable at the beginning? Or had that been some stupid complex fever dream?**


	16. Books Are Useful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are reunions, reminiscings and revelations all the whole Nathalie is saner yet somehow still rambling

Now, upon being thrown back into their cell, Nathalie will neither confirm nor deny to outer sources about how quickly she grabbed the big into a hug. "As far as everyone is concerned, this never happened." She mumbled as he hugged back. "Didn't see a thing." He chuckled before quieting.

When she had quite finished fussing over him, they sat kneeled down across from each other. That sentence was rather small compared to what actually happened, since the model had to repeated for several minutes about being fine since she never seemed done with the impromptu check up.

"What happened when they dragged me out? Where they being sarcastic?" Adrien questioned in confusion. The picture of blood suddenly splattering against the window played on a loop on her head. She had to shake it away. "Nothing to worry about. You won't have to go through that anymore. That's what the first reward ensured." She diverged, smile more strained then it ever had been. 

As he frowned in disbelief, she continued the facade until he soon gave it up. She didn't put it past him though. He definitely knew she was lying, there was no point in disputing that. However, he'd been round her long enough to know that if she put her mind to something, it wouldn't come out. She would probably even remain overly vague in their makeshift therapy session later.

On god, she was going to make sure she sheltered this boy with everything she had, no matter the consequences. "How did you handle it? The separation?" Straight to business then. Her silence was as telling as any words could be. Really, this whole predicament had shit her social skills. Sure, they'd never been the greatest anyways, but she was getting far to used to silent expression then she should be.

"Same, but I at least used the silence to be as productive as I could!" He grinned blindingly. There was that optimism. Those sickeningly sweet words she'd so missed these passing days in their absence. The same optimism she'd made a halfhearted attempt to copy in her time of solace. The very same which would end up being as annoying as ever.

"Productive? How so?" She started, welcoming the different line of conversation. "Do you know that book called Room?" Adrien pointed after a moment. "That's the one I had to get again for you, yes." She hummed. Nathalie could vividly recall buying that for Adrien. He'd split his drink all over the copy he'd bought from the internet, and online shipping was down when he went to order another.

It was how she'd figured out she still despised stores even in adulthood. Peace and quiet had always kept her sane, but a store? Still a no go even after all these years. She hadn't gone into one for far too long since she spent practically all her day at the mansion.

Now she thought about it, she even spent most her sleeping hours and morning preparations in the guest room that had been converted for her. It was a fixture Gabriel put in for her when she'd accidentally ended up sleeping at her desk in the early days of her career. She'd forgotten her coffee and underestimated how long she could work without it.

Her apartment was now more of a last ditch place to crash if Mr Agreste had particularly pissed her off during the work day then a home. Whether that be courtesy of his Hawkmoth shenanigans or from displaced anger at some fashion disaster interns had caused. The chefs tended to make her food no matter how many times she protested it.

Without fail, every morning there was always boxes of prepared meals ready to eat at her disposal. She even suspected it to be the work of Mr Agreste since his only response to her grievances at being quote on quote coddled was a satisfactory smirk. After the book store, she'd stopped complaining about the provided food.It was quite the wake up call as to why she used to hate going, so god forbid she actually have to go to the supermarket every week.

Stores with the crying children, congested aisles, overly complicated sorting techniques that could be done at a better standard by preschoolers and the annoying male employees spending more time trying to get her number then they did their jobs. They all did their part in making her never wish to return for the rest of her natural born life. She'd label it hell on earth if there ever needed to be one.

Nathalie even set the no shopping rule because of it all. A fact Gabriel teased her about in his own little sarcastic way after seeing it coded into their schedule iPads. Even after being put through this predicament, she’s still adamant on only sending Gorilla if there was anything pressing that needed to be collected as soon as possible. That is if she didn't end up arrested at the end.

“Well I’m thinking that they need both of us. There’s no good for the whole experiment thing if we’re read. Right?” Adrien promoted eyes bright with ideas. “You’re thinking one of us should pretend to be sick. Sick enough to require more than a good doctor with a mediocre medical bag by his side.” Nathalie realised, sitting up a tad bit straighter.

“Exactly! But that’s riding on the fact they’d fall for it and go through with actual healthcare. It would be a huge risk on their part. What with me being an amber alert. Everyone in the commonwealth and beyond will be keeping an eye out for me. Then again, if you acted sick, they’ll be looking for you behind bars. I’m willing to wager that the police wouldn’t believe you instantly without hard proof. It could be too late by then.” He brainstormed thoughtfully, hitting the floor rhythmically.

“It would even take convincing if it was you that went to hospital and raised the alarm. They’d probably think this was some mind game I forced you to partake in or even just a case of Stockholm Syndrome at play. We’ll need evidence before action.” She added confidently.

“So we leave clues? They said for every choice you make this stage, you get a reward of your choosing. Just like how you opted me out today. Surely you can ask them to... I don’t know... shed some kind of doubt on the case they’re making against you?” Adrien started. Nathalie frowned slightly before shaking her head.

“I can’t think of anything that would sway the jury by any means. From what I heard on the radio outside, the police even have new blood evidence. They’ll probably find some way to paint me against it.” She sighed solemnly.

However Adrien’s eyes doubled with their devilish glint. “Whom?” He grinned wickedly. She blinked for a bit before staring at the teen in unadulterated confusion. “Whom what?” She prompted. “Whom is the owner of the blood evidence they supposedly have?” He restated.

“Well they have a direct living relative for my blood. If it son matches with father then it’s clearly mine. But what about you? If a test was to come back negative, the owner of said blood would be unknown. Surely that would cast doubt on your guilt? The blood isn’t just a quirky query. It’s the whole make and break of the case!” He laughed.

“So we just have to wait for the police to say if the blood they found came back inconclusive or not. Then we have our window to try a plan.” She finalised, a small smile of her own growing. “I’m sure we can think of smarter things to do then that, but it’s a good place to start.” Adrien nodded strongly.

**Huh... maybe getting that book for Adrien ended up being worth it after all. W** **ait. Didn’t all the book stuff she talked about technically count as internal rambling? Damn it.**


	17. Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which while some are creating makeshift therapy sessions, one is convinced to go to a real one

"No no no! Absolutely not!”

"It will help dear."

"What part of no don't you understand?"

"Uncle Gabriel it's merely a suggestion. Mother just wants you to understand it's on the table and there's nothing wrong with going to it." Félix sighed from across the atelier. "That's what I'm trying to get across, Gabriel dear." Amelie concurred from beside him.

"Therapy can do great things! With all that has gone on recently, it would do you some good to have someone to talk with. Even if you just end up being your stern self and spend the entire session psychoanalysing them instead. You could do with the unbiased party. I'm sure they'd be able to solve your problems." She continued, waving a hand to the flyer that had been discarded onto the desk.

"I will not reiterate this! It's not happening! I don't need some random phycologist trying to barter with my life. It's not like they can get Adrien back." He repeated angrily, pen strokes on the tablet becoming even harder in his annoyance. "It's not just about Adrien, Gabriel. It's also about you too! If you care for everyone else all the time, who's going to be there to look after you? You punched a Ferrari's windshield in during what I can only assume was a panic attack for goodness sake. It will help to talk things out." She protested back quickly.

"My questionable coping mechanisms aren't of any real importance right now. What is of important is getting Adrien safe!" Gabriel snapped, before Amelie could form a response back, the younger of the three broke through. His voice was as casual and cool as ever, but the sharp edge of emotion rang loudly in the silent office.

"He wouldn't want that. Neither would Aunt Emilie." Félix argued, voice low. The two adults quieted at that, allowing him to continue. "I know my father wouldn't want to see me turning as cold as I did. I can admit that. I wouldn't expect any different from him had I been the one to pass away. No one wants others to be sad on their part." He confessed soon after.

"It hurt my cousin enough to see you unwind after aunt's disappearance. But this? No. This wouldn't just hurt him. It would break him, uncle. The state of the fact is that you're everything he has. He wouldn't want to witness you shattered in his name. Don't even get me started on how aunt Emilie would chew you out right now for punching the car windshield. You're lucky the cuts were only superficial and you didn't break a knuckle." Félix continued, not quite done with the point he was making.

"So you're going to pick up that leaflet on your desk, open it and read the damn thing before going to an appointment because you know it's best for you. Am I understood?" He finalised quietly, voice leaving no room for argument. Amelie looked at the boy in shock at having structured the speech on the spot before snapping out of it to add in another approved nod.

Gabriel looked at the boy in silence for a solid minute before looking away. The fact he looked exactly like Adrien gave him bonus points, and his satisfied smirk showed he knew it. "I don't suppose I actually have a choice in this, do I?" Gabriel hummed after a moment. "Oh no, of course not. I booked the session a week in advance. This was a formality." She smiled sweetly.

He grimaced in annoyance and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “ _bloody in laws_ ” before continuing with his work. That was how he ended up in his current predicament. He was officially stuck across from a therapist for an entire hour. He would leave early had Amelie not be outside ready to deal out her wrath if he did so.

A good ten minutes was spent in utter silence as he tapped away on his tablet. "I don't exactly understand what the point of this is." He sighed in aggravation when the therapist gave him a rather pointed look to prompt a response. "Well are we just going to sit in existential silence for another fifty minutes or actually talk? If that's what you need, I can do this all day." She shrugged.

"Isn't it your job to tell me what's wrong and what I need? Not mine." He scoffed sarcastically. "Well it depends. What do you think is wrong that we should talk about, Gabriel?" Doctor Martin smiled, finally looking up from her clipboard as he looked up from his own device.

"Well I don't know. Isn't that what Amelie is insisting she pay you a god forsaken amount of money for? To... therapize me." He huffed, arms crossed. "I'm not in the mood for how was your day and on a scale of one to tens. I just want this over with." He added straight after when she opened her mouth to say something.

"Gabriel, I can be a blunt person if my patients want me to be. If you're not one for nice conversations and gummy bears then we don't have to do all that. So if you want me to just get on then just tell me, it's up to you. Anything you ask is completely fine by me." She assured.

"Must you need more of an invitation? Do you job already so I can leave." He demanded, eyes glaring harshly as he picked up his stylus and went back to designing in boredom. "Have you ever considered that all of this excessive stern behaviour and sarcasm may be your attempt to fill a void in your emotional life? If you pretend you don't care, nothing can hurt you. To me, you sound like a lonely man that thinks he has nothing left to lose." Doctor Martin prompted.

Okay so maybe he should of just stuck to that insufferable silence. "Lonely? Have you been listening to a word that's said on the TV about me, Doctor Martin? I'm never alone. I'm constantly surrounded by people. I could throw a party whenever I desire, because all I have to do is say so and A List celebrities would pile on my doorstep for it. Interns and designers are always calling and dropping by the mansion for work and appointments. My in law and nephew are staying with me until this blows over. I'm always with someone!" He scoffed again dismissively.

"Mr Agreste, being alone and being lonely are two entirely different things." She corrected softly. "Are they?" He asked in confusion, head tilted. The doctor nodded sharply. "Of course. You could be surrounded by others, but do you truly consider any of those people your actual friends?" She elaborated.

"If you don't want to call it that, then just a peer you respect. Someone you like to spend time with. Someone with whom you share a meaningful time with. Maybe you tell them secrets that no one else knows. A personal connection." She probed kindly, her hands gesturing to the concept she was trying to get across.

"No. The only person who even closely matches that description are on the outs with me, I'm afraid. Long story. Filled with betrayal. You actually make a cameo near the end of it." He disputed at a drawl.

"How about before? Did you consider this person your friend?" Doctor Martin questioned. He went quiet for a moment for nodding. "Well I suppose if you was to coin any term to it, that would probably work." He shrugged. "So you've been betrayed by a friend you thought you could trust." She smiled.

"Is that not obvious? I thought my lack of son currently could get that point across. I've known that for weeks, good doctor. Do you seriously get paid to repeat the obvious to people? I should take therapy up. It seems to pay very well for what it is." He chuckled in amusement, rolling his eyes. "You know it, Gabriel, but how does it make you feel?" She pointed out.

Frowning in confusion, he lowered his stylus and raised an eyebrow. "What does that have to do with anything? What I feel doesn’t matter right now, Doctor Martin! Only Adrien." He growled. The therapist froze for a second before settling in her seat further. “It seems we have a lot to talk about. Do you want a drink?” She asked curiously.

“I’ve said something wrong haven’t I?” He blinked. “Just enough to worry me a bit, Gabriel.” She grinned lopsidedly. Yeah. He definitely said something wrong. Neglect to yourself 101. A key to a very long conversation starter. A psychologists average Tuesday. Great. So much for having one session and getting it over with quickly.


	18. Choices, Choices, Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nathalie ponders her option, she makes another choice and realises that it never mattered in the first place

“What exactly should I ask? It’s not like I can just request they let us go.” She pondered after finishing her breakfast. Through the night she hadn’t really thought about it, but now it seemed like an important enquiry to make. “I mean you could send hints. Descriptions or pictures of the guys. That kind of thing. Surely it could clear your name.”

“Yes, but it wouldn’t help in the short run. We can sort that out easily after we’re free. We need necessities for the rest of the time here. I could ask for a blow up bed and blanket for you. Or something for you to do activity wise.” She suggested. Adrien looked up from his tray in confusion.

“What about you? All that stuff you just said was about me.” He blinked, head tilting in concern. “As long as you’re comfortable as I can possibly make you, I don’t care about my own conditions, Adrien. You come first.” Nathalie explained instantly, well accustomed to these kinds of conversations now.

“But you matter right now too! Even if you keep saying I’m priority, triage has to start somewhere.You’re the one getting tortured. Physiologically, emotionally and physically. Priority fluctuates. At least try and see if you can get two of each. That or just get appliances to go in here. Those will benefit both of us.” He smiled.

Really there was no point in arguing with the teen. He’d keep repeating that point all day if he had to. She had to think realistically. These gifts were a privilege. She had to use them efficiently. Posting VPN protected messages will do nothing but help outside rather then in.

She could use some of the days to create a bug out bag with all the stuff they’d need to call for help or get home. Maybe she could collect the stuff they’d need for the whole sickness plan. But then again, that came with far too many risks to balance their probabilities.

Nathalie would focus on room and living arrangements. Then she’d move on to hints and texts if she had enough left over. Everything seemed far easier when she put it like that. Gifts and chances. It sounded far nicer then practically sacrificing humans for their own gain.

Eventually, it was time, and she was being dragged off again to the little interrogation room. It was clever. She’d probably end up with one hell of a panic attack as police questioned her later. What was it called? Creating correlations and blurring the lines? Parkinson’s Bell? Something like that. She’d have to look it up at a later date.

There were two men. The glass clear from the get go as they stared at her in unchecked fear. They’d clearly been told her role in this already if they were looking at her I suck desperation and terror. The goons strapped her down to the seat and she turned an eye to the boss that was there again.

"One of these lively men across from you is a criminal that’s killed several people in a time of only six months, while the other is innocent. Model citizen even." The bosses eyes glimmered. "You get to figure out which deserves to die more. That or just or pick one at random and pray it’s the bad guy that bites the dust. Whatever feels right to you." He shrugged as if it didn't matter to him. Hell, who was she kidding. He didn’t.

“Then you get to pick the how much dear. From a list I’ve drafted up though! I can’t just let you become the boss now can I?" He clapped in glee. Nathalie scoped out both of the men cautiously, looking for any sort of sign that pointed to one of the men being a serial killer. A tattoo or still bloodied shoes. It was hard. They were both dressed in cheap paper gowns you’d find in a psyche ward and all there personal effects had been removed. There was nothing to go off.

"Come right up! Come right up and pick their doom! How and who are up to you!" The boss chorused mockingly. She didn’t have anytime. She’d just have to pick. "The elder." It was blurted, but oh so definite. Realistically, statistics would lead him to be the killer over the younger. So she had to just go with her brain rather then her gut for today.

A piece of paper was soon held out by the boss, penciled words scribbled on it in large elegant strokes. He beamed at her like a child about to get candy from the store. How could anyone call Hawkmoth a psychopath when this man existed? Gabriel’s reversible crimes seemed tiny now compared to this. She’d sell her soul to go back to that life right about now.

They were all horrible. Somehow they all were extricating and slow. She had to choose one. They would be crossed off after. It was a one time use kind of deal. The one she settled upon looked like the most humane out of all of them, so she went for it before she could caught her mind. “Number 10.”

The boss raised his eyebrows in surprise before grinning and holding out the same amount of fingers. The goon in the room across nodded and pulled out a knife from his waist band. She wanted nothing more then to turn away or close her eyes, but that wouldn’t bode well for anyone involved. She just had to sit and watch the older man's neck be cut open. There was no arterial’s cut. Expert work of an executioner. The man’s death would probably be slower then necessary this way.

"Was I right?" She demanded after a moment when the twitching came to a stop. The boss laughed cruelly. A laugh so loudly it was as if she had gone and said the stupidest thing in the world. Her stomach was filled with dread at the sound. "Of course not! Neither of them were criminals. One was a newly graduated surgeon and the other was a teacher father of three." He chuckled.

Nathalie growled, debating her chances of being able to break out the bounds and punch him right in the throat. "And the best part is coming up." There was a sudden gunshot that caused her head to spin around in alarm. It was just in time to see yet another splatter of blood on the god forsaken mirror.

The remaining man, the younger one who'd had to watch the older die, slouched in his chair. Very much dead. So her option really didn’t matter. It was a game of mercy. Loose ends always needed to be tied in the criminal. How foolish she was for believing she could actually save someone each time. The second girl from yesterday was most likely already dead. Killed outside.

She wasn’t mad about being lied to anymore. She was just numbly staring at the red plastering the other room. Red. So much red. She really hated her turtleneck now. She’d have to start wearing blue ones to work when they were freed. Anything to get away from red. She didn’t even know one could have such a furry passion against one colour until today.

“What do you want for being compliant today?” He prompted happily. This must be another thing they were doing. Making her believe that everything had a deadly price or that gifts would always mean death. “Air mattresses.” She muttered quickly, taking her eyes away from where the bodies were already being dragged away like broken china dolls.

“Your wish is my command. You’ll have it by night time. Boys.” He ordered. Then she was being led back to the room, dragging her along if she was too slow or stumbled. As she met eyes with Adrien, her look must of betrayed her emotions since he had already pulled her into a hug before she could protest. “It’s just a game. A sick game.” She grimaced.

They stood there for god knows how long, her awkwardly standing in his arms as he offered what comfort he could about a situation she bluntly refused to indulge him about. Nathalie only wondered how long she could protect him for. How long she could uphold his innocence before he saw something that would stay with him more then this kidnapping would.

Just how long would she last until failing him?

The same thing happened the next day. She had tried testing her options by saying absolutely nothing that time. Even as she was shouted at for an answer and given a punch or two as incentive. In the end, it also lead to the same fate. Just this time the pair was burned to nothing but char before her eyes. Two deaths off the bat. No mercy kill given.

Silence was very much not an option. Sure, she’d gotten a pair of pillows out of it, but now she sure as hell couldn’t sleep at night anyways. Not after hearing those piercing screams that even Adrien commented on catching from across the facility. The view was burned into her mind. Pun very much intended.

They always look to her as if she was going to be their messiah from death, but she couldn’t do anything but sit there and beg uselessly for them to just be put out their prolonged misery. It was that evening that she finally allowed herself to snap.

From what she remembered of the blur, it mainly consisted of shouting Latin obscenities at them through the doors and throwing herself against the walls of the room to take out her pent up emotions. No matter how much Adrien tried to calm her down, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from lashing out to the point of injury.

An hour later, Adrien was sat beside her again for a quote on quite mandatory therapy session as she cradled her sore side from the little outburst. According to him, this was progress. They’d hit a nerve and could work on fixing it and building defences. If this was progress, she hoped the next part of it didn’t involve just as many bruises.

The decisions naturally got worse as the days went on. The more swifter cleanse deaths were being used up faster then she anticipated. Now it was just a choice on who would have the worse death. It was either torture that even those in the medieval age would be disgusted over it or quick gunshot to the back of the head. That sentence to hand out and and she was their final judge delivering it.

Poison, blades, animals and machinery. You only had to name a way of death and she could guarantee it would be on the steadily growing list. It was as if they were googling ideas every so often and adding it like school children during tests. The worst one by far was the fifteen choice she’d made. It was either a baby girl or her older brother.

It hurt more then the others because she wasn’t even the one that decided. The eldest had immediately demanded for himself to get the worse death and his baby sister to just go down peacefully when he realised what was happening. His loyalty and devotion to his sibling was admirable. Even as the boy met his grisly end, he didn’t stop rambling thanks to her that she was giving the mercy to his sister rather then himself.

Getting attached like that only made matters worse he found. Looking at their faces longer meant she could figure out more things about them or they’d address her specifically and say something personal that triggered her empathy. Seeing just how terrified and alone they were in their final moments was always the final kicker to her overall daily moral.

But no. She had to do this. She had to push the emotions away. Even if it’s just for this task alone. If she could pretend like nothing matters, the. It will be easier to aim on collecting as many rewards that could help them as possible. Even with the sacrifice of human life. She was almost free. Just the last stage after this and she would be home bound.

**_She could bloody well do this_ **


	19. Ignore and Implore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the third stage isn’t important because really, she was completely fine with what happened, Adrien is worried, Nathalie realises the endgame and Adrien diverts the conversation to politics in an attempt to distract her from the daunting revelation...
> 
> In other news, Nathalie is totally okay with what’s happening so there’s no reason to address it. Totally fine. Not at all displacing.
> 
> She was getting worse at lying these days wasn’t she?

Ignore it and carry on... ignore it and carry on. The mantra that had not left her head the entire month. Adrien's has even made jokes about it being the stage that must not be named from what little information he had on it. Perhaps that was what made it all the more eerie. The fact that the details were covered.

"You know... the fourth stage is starting tomorrow, yet I haven't heard a thing about what you did lately. It's like you're shutting me off." Adrien commented quietly as he finished brushing his teeth and putting it away in the bag. "As I've said previously, I don't want to talk about it. It's best to not question the stuff you have." She sighed tiredly.

"I know you don't want to, but you might have to. For the sake of your sanity. You can't just... glaze over something of that nature." He worked out after a moment. "I'm not glazing over it Adrien. I'm moving on from it as it happens. There's no need to dawdle on events that have no relevance." She protested.

"It's not a bad thing to talk about your feelings from the past, you know. It helps you move on quicker more than ignoring it will." He corrected. Nathalie didn't grace him with an answer as she grabbed the bucket of water. "It's just... you don't have to shelter me from everything. You're not Carapace. I can handle the details." He explained before shuffling over and planting himself down in front of her.

She shook her head in amusement at the subtle pun before handing him a hand towel she'd asked for just yesterday so he could wipe all the dirt off from his face. "You can talk to me about anything." Adrien assured while scrubbing at his cheek which the damp cloth. "I know that, but there's always going to be things that you shouldn't have to hear about. I'll save that for an actual therapist." She nodded in agreement.

"Aw and here I thought I was doing a good job." He smiled cheekily. Her only response to that was dipping her fingers in the liquid and flicking the water at his face in retaliation. "Is this you firing me? How rude." He grinned lopsidedly, happy to see her in a rather chipper mood for once.

Nathalie supposed that was because it was almost stage four. Three was best to be left in the dust. Something she had wanted to see more then freedom itself as of late. She could move on without problem. She knew she could. Surely it wouldn't be that hard?

Okay she probably was lying to herself, but it helped her cope. She preferred that over her previous tantrum in Latin that did no good but bruise her. It was as if she'd backtracked herself to the first stage where distractions were her key to mental maintenance.

For example, seeing Adrien currently fuss over trying to find an effective way of washing his hands in a bucket of water was far more important for her to focus on then her problems. It reminded her of the simpler days when he was younger.

Apparently, toddlers flat out refused to stay still in baths for some damn reason and Emilie couldn't handle it herself even with Gabriel's attempted assistance. They needed a suitable distraction maker. What with their constant splashing, moving and fascination of bubbles blowing around, someone to keep their attention on one spot was necessary. 

She'd learnt many things from what could only be described as painful experiences. Never wear long sleeves, lest you wish for an annoyingly uncomfortable hour, and don't expect to stay dry in any shape or form. Emilie had said it herself when she first thought it couldn't be that hard of a job to get done.

To say the least, last she checked, having a lavender bubble beard courtesy of your bosses offspring wasn't exactly a cautionary risk on her job contact. Yet it was still one she has to face back then. Her years of working for the Agreste family when the boy was a toddler had been rather colourful. She couldn't always escape the boy's face paints and toys after all. Not when she worked at the place he was roaming freely. Now those trials and tribulations seemed grey scale compared to what she had been doing recently.

She'd kill to go back to her simpler troubles at the Agreste house. Supervillain sidekick assistant? It wasn't exactly a plan for the future she'd expected as a teenager, but she could work with it since she saw her other bleaker alternative. Nathalie would take butterflies and feathers any day.

"What do you think the next stage will be? I can't see how they would escalate it from what they've already done. Right? Unless they have an ace card up their sleeve." Adrien hummed after a minute.

"That's what I'm concerned about. Even if it appears easy, it could get worse very suddenly without warning. That's what they've done for most of them. Changed the game and confused us where necessary to put us on edge. Classic manipulation. Make them feel out of control and out of tangible guesses. With them playing that game, it will be almost impossible to predict their endgame anymore." She replied.

"Well unless their endgame is to have no endgame at all, I don't see how this can get any crazier." Adrien's joked with a lighthearted laugh. Oh. "Adrien... you might be on to something." She realised, jumping up from where she was sat. "Their endgame isn't an endgame at all! It's just the mask for the beginning!"

The teen tilted his head in confusion. "What? You've lost me. Are they planning to keep us longer?" He questioned, to which she smiled. "The game isn't to survive to get out. It's to survive getting out. Key difference." Nathalie corrected. "Survive getting out? What are they going to be following us?" He blinked.

"No. They'll be long gone. There's one thing that's going to be more dangerous then them upon our eventual release." She smiled, turning around to stare out the small window showing the woods outside. Her discarded broken phone of the very beginning guards doing still laying out there.

"They won't be the threat anymore. Their final game won't be this stage. No. Not even close. Their final game is watching the chase." She chuckled. "I feel really out of the loop here. What have you figured out?" He demanded after a second of trying and failing to piece it together himself.

"Think Adrien! The police only have the car and a blood sample! Say the blood sample is mine, it will come back inconclusive because they don't have my blood! The car only has our prints on it! All the evidence points directly to me being the person that took you! I'm the bad guy! Now tell me why not a single pair have been plastered all over international news yet about their experiment kidnapping?" She prompted, hands clapping together.

"Because... they couldn't?" He tried, to which she smiled brightly. "They couldn't because one of them was dead. Not the child. No no. The child is important. The child's always innocent in the police's eyes. Now say, if one of them retuned and said they hadn't been kidnapped by the adult and spun the whole story of the trials and the four month torture, what are the feds going to think?" Nathalie continued.

"Stockholm syndrome or that it's the coping mechanism they made up in their psyches." He finalised, understanding drawing on his face. "Exactly. Now without the adult to confirm it and their bodies being the physical evidence of long term injuries there, the adult is the bad guy and the child is their unsuspecting manipulated victim. Now, why isn't the adult there? Why is it always the child that gets recovered?" She grinned.

"Because the adult is dead."

"And why?"

"I-I'm not sure."

"The _**police**_ , Adrien. The _**police**_."

"What?"

Spinning back around, she began pacing the room. "Think about it. They're both released and only one is there to tell the final story? The adult is lost somewhere in there. If it was the elements, the kid would be gone too. If there was an accident, the kid wouldn't of got there by themselves. It was upon being found they drop off the map. Why?" 

Adrien's face was even more confused now. "People don't just disappear." He laughed nervously. "Quite. They didn't disappear. They died. They're dead by time the overly confident police close the case. The question you want is how, because there's only one place they could've been taken out." She smirked. 

"The stand off. When SWAT finds them. They're killed in the stand off." He followed through. "Four months of torture and their first step is to run to the arms of law enforcement because they think they'll be saved, but they don't have the same advantage we do. We had the loud radio. We know what they think of me right now. They think I the villain so I know I can’t rush it. They didn’t. Do you understand what I meant now?" She finalised, to which Adrien nodded, leaning back slightly.

"They see me with you and they'll assume the worse. That you could be armed. They already have in the report. One false move and they'll blow you sky high. In their eagerness to shut it, they might not even have an ME check out your body so the obvious torture isn’t found out." He muttered thoughtfully before lifting his eyes up to look at her.

"They have no way to know I could be innocent. Not unless post mortem Forensics take my blood and it files as a match on the bloody needle. Such a high profile case with a high profile abductee and abductor? They'll want this done and quickly. If that means giving the order, they will. They'll quite literally jump the gun on it before we can even explain the situation to them." She completed, the final thought clicking in Adrien's brain.

"You're right. This terrorist group won't be the ones we have to look out for after the last stage. It will be the police." He echoed in shock, almost laughing at the sentence he'd never thought he'd say. "So I've decided what the last reward will be. I'm going to ask for evidence that will clear my name. Then, all I'll have to do is comply long enough for you to kick it over to them. If we do it right, we might both just get out of it." She decided.

"But sometimes complying isn't enough. You could move your arms too fast and they'll shoot you. People die for a lot less nowadays." Adrien protested. "Well then I trust you to keep me alive long enough after throwing the file at them. They'll actually call medics after reading enough of it." She justified.

"You... you trust me to keep you alive?" He stuttered in surprise. "The only person that deserves a special place in your life is someone that never made you feel like you were an option in theirs. Shannon Alder. Building trust is a process. Trust results from consistent and predictable interaction over time. That one's Barbara White. I've been around you long enough to know I can depend on you to keep pressure on a wound. I can trust you with my life." She quoted quietly, pushing up her glasses. "Well then I won't let you down."

All in all, making a plan about how to avoid her getting killed by the police wasn't what she thought would be a lesson she had to teach Adrien in his life time. Yet here she was. One month left. One month and then a whole new challenge began. A challenge of survival was all it could be called.

"1312 is really kicking into high gear.” Adrien added after a moment. She sighed mostly to herself, but nodded in agreement. To say Adrien startled was an understatement. "You know what that means?" He laughed.

"I'm not barbaric, Adrien. I know the problems of the world."

"I'm just surprised you supported it."

"Why wouldn’t I?"

"Seriously?"

"Is this really an important conversation?"

"I'm interested!"

"We're French, Adrien! We're literally known for the revolution against a tyrant run system actively oppressing the people!"

"Well yeah, but like... the high class, stern, rich white businesswoman? Isn’t that the profile of a person with more conservative values?"

"If anything, you and your father are even more so fitting. We have privilege yes. That doesn't stop us being decent human beings."

"So if you're not Les Républicains, what then?"

"I regret ever going into this."

"MoDem?"

"Stop."

"Nouveau Centre?"

"For god's sake."

"LREM?"

"How do you know so many political parties?"

"Parti Socialiste?"

"I'm tired."

"Parti Communiste?"

“Adrien Agreste.”

"Europe Ecologie Les Verts?"

"Are you just naming all the possible parties other then the right?"

"Parti de Gauche?"

"Adrien."

"Nouveau Parti Anticapitaliste?"

"Okay, you're done now."

"Come on! Tell me!"

"Go to bed Adrien."

"Fine. But we're revisiting this."

"Over my dead body."

"That can be arranged. Just call 112."

"Very funny. Bed. _Now_."


	20. Talks and Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nathalie is thinking, Adrien is listening and she is definitely most certainly not hysterical...
> 
> Damn it she was-

The last day of choosing. It’s the last day and all she had to do was ask for the evidence. Make the choice, watch the death, ignore the screams, get what’s needed. She’d expected the hours before they inevitable deciding to be easy as before. Yet it dragged on dangerously like it was wearing lead boots. Each second that passed was daunting.

How could the last be the worst? Was it just because now she couldn’t desensitise to it? Now she would have to think about it for the last stage? Now she had no responsibility? Or was it because now she wouldn’t be in control? The answer was something she didn’t know. She didn’t like not knowing.

Resting her head on the cool concrete floor, she stared up into the florescent lighting brightening the room as she pondered. The fact she was dwelling on it probably made it worse, but she couldn’t help but think.

Adrien was hitting the floor rhythmically again. So he could probably see something was troubling her. She hoped that wasn’t a habit he’d carry for the rest of his life. If he did, his school tests will probably end up being a nightmare. Especially finals. He’d end up in his own private room upon the invigilators getting fed up with the thinking induced knocks.

To her, it almost soothed her rather then annoy her as it probably should. It meant Adrien was okay. He was still alive and he was as indecisive as ever. No matter the mental scars he’d emerge with via second hand trauma and the kidnapping itself, that couldn’t be taken away. “He kept changing the rules.” She whispered more to himself than anyone, but it seemed Adrien was more focused on his hearing then she’d expected.

"What's that?" He called out, fist coming to a stop. When it became clear she wasn't going to repeat herself, Adrien gave up on the line of questioning and simply laid down next to her on the floor. He stared up at the same spot to listen rather then interrogate.

"Everything here is a game, but it’s one he kept changing the rules too. I can’t win because he always changes them.” She looked at Adrien mournfully. The teen only nodded in understanding, not wanting to interrupt at what was finally seeming to be her opening up. A sight he hadn’t seen since this stage.

"He made me choose between you and the girl on who would live. So I did. I played along. It was awful, sure. Yet the only thing that made it any bit less awful was that you would live.” She continued, narrowing her eyes at the ceiling.

“Then the next day came and he said it was the same, but he went and changed them. Very last minute. Just when the other guy had died and I went to leave. After lying to me, they just... shot him. It's not fair!" She huffed in anger. Adrien shook his head in disbelief at the enemy, but still didn't say anything.

"It's like those stupid children’s shows. Where the bad guy is chasing the good guy, but he gets in a car as soon as it starts and shoots off. That leaves the perceived bad guy in the dust, still wondering what the fuck just happened." Adrien winced slightly, unused to hearing her actually swear out loud.

"If he’d been told the good guy had a car, he wouldn’t of bothered running. Yet when they do the same gag again, this time he doesn’t go and an anvil drops down and crushes him like an accordion. I'm the one being crushed with the anvil right when I think I know what’s happening. Just as I make evolution, something else is added to the mix. So I try to change it up. I don’t even try to chase the good guy in the first place! Then I still get screwed over since the same thing happens anyway." She ranted bitterly.

Nathalie went deadly silent for a minute, looking for words that she couldn’t put together. No number of metaphors could explain the experiences to Adrien. Even if there were, he wouldn't want to do that to him. Adrien had already been through enough. He didn’t need those mental images in his head.

"It’s like he wanted me to change a car’s oil without getting it on my hands, but then he covered the whole damn oil container in it. So just as I managed to flicked the cap off and emptied out the old stuff, I pick up the can I’m refilling it with and get dirty anyways. The easy part becomes the hardest just like that. Yet that’s too easy for him. He made it so I couldn’t see because he turned the lights off in the garage. I can’t see the sabotage anymore.” She breathed, that one seemed to make more sense for the boy, who hummed in agreement.

“He set me up to fail. He knows that I despise failure, and each time I lose one more person then necessary, it just breaks me more and more. It's all a game. A game he just not willing to let me win the easy way. He’s set it on Hardcore mode. You can reach the end yes, but it won’t be easy for you, nor will it save. You die, you can’t enter that world again.” She finished, tension from her body deflating upon getting what she wanted to say across.

It was only then that she realised she was laughing. Yet it seemed to be getting far too close to a fit of hysterics. She could feel Adrien look at her in concern, entirely unsure of what to do. If Nathalie was him, she'd have no clue what to do too. It seemed almost impossible to tell if she was upset or having a nervous breakdown.

She figured Adrien would just stand up and go pour a glass of water. Wait for her to come down from her panic so they could talk about it like stable adults. Well, as close as to an adult as a teenager can imitate. She wouldn't of blamed him. Hell, it's probably what she would have done.

So it surprised her when she felt a hand clutching her own, reminding that there was still someone right there. “I won’t turn off the lights when you’re changing the oil. I won’t put the anvil there when you don’t run and I’ll keep you alive on Hardcore mode. That way we can both be there as the end credits of the game roll. You can count on that.” He assured, tapping the outside of her hand to keep her grounded like the night she'd awoken from nightmares.

Sometimes she forgot just how pure that kid was for this Earth until moments like this. Really, she could already see the sheer amount of trust issues she was going to walk out of here with. All those tricks and lies she’d fallen into? Hyper vigilance over every little promise will be a given. So it was nice to know that her resident sunshine boy was in her corner.

”You can count on me.” He repeated, eyes hardening in determination. “You know, you sound just like a walking case of a hero complex, Adrien.” She smirked, the boy flushing in embarrassment. “I do not have a hero complex!” He groaned before stopping to think about something she couldn’t decipher for a moment.

”Okay so maybe a do.” Adrien corrected, rubbing the back of his neck nervously with a lopsided smile. Rolling her eyes, she settled them back on the buzzing light bulb. Just one more decision and then it was a new hurdle. Just one more.

She could handle this. Actually, she wasn’t sure if that lie sounded the same anymore. She most certainly could not handle this in the slight. No, she could get through it, but she couldn’t handle it. They are two very different concepts.

**She couldn’t _handle_ it, but she could _deal_ with it**


	21. Puzzle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack Claude is yet again the only competent officer

Negative. The blood was negative for Adrien. They’d looked for a father son relation by using a sample of Gabriel’s blood, but it came back completely foreign. How? There’s no room for misdiagnosis. There was plenty of blood on there and he’d seen accurate tests done with a lot less and a lot older blood. There was no reason it should come back as negative or even inconclusive if it was really Adrien’s blood,

It had to be someone else’s sample. Detective Jack Claude ran through the tapes they had from CCTV. Only Adrien and Nathalie got in the car. It doesn’t stop the entire way there. Not for even a moment other than to turn, wait at a light and move through slow traffic. Then it drops off the map after having to divert because of construction work happening down the usual route.

Right into a secluded forest with no signs and no cameras. The perfect place to get lost and the perfect place to abduct. Then something happened leading to two syringes, two missing persons and a discarded car in the middle of nowhere. Unless it was a crime of opportunity, there was no way she could of set it up in that part. She was unfamiliar with it. Kidnapping someone there would of been a death sentence. She ran the risk of ending up running straight into someone while holding the unconscious boy in her arms.

No back up car too? It would of come out on the other end where there was CCTV. If it didn’t enter on that day, then there would be an unknown vehicle they could look into, but there hadn’t been. Just the Agreste Car going in. Another two minutes later. Then only the latter coming back out.

Then there was the biggest contradiction. Both syringes couldn’t of been used on Adrien. Not with an Unsub’s blood on it. They couldn’t even identify it through the system. So that only left someone with a clear record being the possible recipient. Plus, two syringes into him? Two syringes that could only be necessary if one wasn’t enough to fill in the required dose? Deadly to the highest degree. Not only the basic run of the mill sedative to knock out the recipient, but the final component.

Botulinum toxin. One of the most poisonous biological substances known to man. It works by interfering with neural transmission causing muscle paralysis. In large enough doses without early treatment, the respiratory system becomes paralysed too. Resulting in death.

This dose however with its dilution was small enough to do absolutely nothing. It wouldn’t even paralyse you. Let alone kill. It was a power play more than anything. The mere fact there was some in there was terrifying. It meant they had access to more.

Using one syringe was sedatives and a bit of the toxin for effect was smart. Using both and doubling? A boy Adrien’s size and age, that would be plenty to overdose and possibly have some actual effects of poisoning from the Botulinum. If they didn’t have the antitoxin or possible access to emergency treatment, it would easy lead to the death of the target.

Nathalie was a smart calculating woman by all accounts. She wouldn’t even think about doing that if she simply wanted to take Adrien. That and with no body, confession or the woman herself turning up, he wasn’t dead. One would of been plenty to take the teen model. So who did she inject with the final one? The final one she’d brought with her.

Bringing a second implies another person was there, but that had already been disputed. Even if there was, they wouldn’t of had the same built trust to her like Adrien did. She could take him easily, but the hypothetical second child? Violent force would of had to been applied. The extra blood on the needle they’d tested did imply whoever took it was fighting and had to be stabbed with it rather hard.

The first was an easy take down. Trust or surprise. The second? They probably witnessed it and had the time to try and attack or escape. The first was likely since the syringes wee together and not apart. No running. They didn’t have the time. Or the space. Was it done in the car? Being so confided meant their only choice would be to kick at the person approaching after being backed into a locked door corner.

Then how did Nathalie get in the back? She couldn’t reach over for both of them. The car backseat was huge. Probably just shy of a small limo. That and the screen was still pulled up. She would’ve had to get out and open Adrien’s door, taking him first and going in for the other who according to all evidence just wasn’t there.

Things simply weren’t adding up no matter how lenient he was with situations and possibilities that popped into his head. Thing that were dead out impossible he still theorised on just in case. Nathalie doing the drugging on only Adrien just didn’t work out.

Based on the identity of the perpetrator, there are three distinct types of kidnapping. First family kidnapping. That’s usually 49 percent. Then acquaintance kidnapping which equals. 27 percent. Then finally stranger kidnapping. The smaller one of the three at 24 percent.

Family kidnapping is committed primarily by parents. It tends to involve a larger percentage of female perpetrators than other types of kidnapping offences, but is still dominated by its male perpetrators. It happens more frequently to children under 6 of both sexes and most often originates in the home.

Acquaintance kidnapping involves a comparatively high percentage of juvenile perpetrators. There are more female and teenage victims. It’s usually more often associated with other crimes, occurs at homes and residences, and has the highest percentage of injured victims then any other.

So he wasn’t even sure if he could confirm Adrien’s case as a family or acquaintance situation. Nathalie was in no way only an acquaintance to the boy, yet she wasn’t related by blood or parental marriage at all.

So should he conform to the statistics of a stranger kidnapping case instead? They primarily occur at outdoor locations, victimise both teenagers and school age children, is associated with robberies in the case of boy victims although not exclusively so, and is the type of kidnapping most likely to involve the use of a firearm.

Only about one child out of a sample of ten thousand missing children reported to the local police are not found alive. However, when it came to this high up in the chain, the overall amount tends to be 20 percent of the children in nonfamily abductions being found dead.

In 80 percent of abductions by strangers, the first contact between the child and the abductor occurs within a quarter mile of the child's home and are grabbed from the streets or by being lured into cars. Acting quickly is critical in those cases. Especially if the abductors plan is to kill them, as that’s usually done within three hours of the abduction. A point they have long since passed. One can only hope that wasn’t the plan.

Accessing all this information had been his only hobby these passing days upon the test coming back with nothing. He wasn’t crazy. They had to be looking for another victim other than Adrien. It was the only logical explanation. Then they had to figure out where they were picked up and why this person was also taken too other than no witnesses.

They’d have found a body though had it been the classic no one can see motive. Then why pick that person up in the first place if that was your plan. With an extra dose too. That implies premeditation. There was no reason to take another. Unless this was some psychotic break which was even more unlikely, it still wasn’t working.

That could only mean one thing. They were missing something. Something huge. Something that acted like the final puzzle piece that convoluted the picture. Something so blazingly obvious, yet hidden at the same time.They’d been looking at this all wrong because of it. They needed that puzzle piece. That clue. That damn clue that had to be somewhere. It would explain it all.

They’d bled the crime scene dry. Searching every nook at cranny inch by inch to ensure they didn’t miss a thing. They even had guy in the trees looking to see if anything had been thrown up there. Just to be sure, they’d even spread out further by expanding the tape. Still nothing other than the car, its contents and the syringes that had caused him to question this entire case.

Tapping his pen anxiously he read through that labs one more time to make sure he hadn’t gone over anything dismissively when he caught it from the corner of his eye. The car that went in behind them two minutes after and came later didn’t have a plate. Tinted windows. Perfect build. Then on the way out the front was dented and scuffed like they’d collided with something.

Or with a car

Flipping open the crime scene photos, he threw the irrelevant photos out the way until he found one of the bumper. Slightly dinted. As to be expected with a backward collision and strength of the metal on that case in particular like he’d deduced a while ago. Paint scraped off and some of another left behind.

Zooming in on the video, he froze it just when the car is in best view. Damage exactly where you’d expect it and grey remnants. This had to be a car that collided with the Agreste car. The reason why she pulled over in the first place. To inspect the damage.

These guys had to have seen something.  
He narrowed his eyed and approached his evidence board. No. They wouldn’t of seen a thing. Not if they drive through normally like the footage had us believe. Unpinning the picture of Nathalie from the top, he pulled it down to pin beside Adrien. Soon after, there was a single square of paper with a question mark in its place. Red string splitting off to the pair of photos.

They hadn’t considered the possibility they’d both been kidnapped by an outer source. An outer source that might dang well be whoever is in that car. It made sense. Follow the Agreste Car into a secluded area, rear end them, have Nathalie inspect the damage and go to inject her. She realised in time to fight back long and well enough to the point where the injection is forced and rushed. She falls to the ground and then you open the passenger seat and inject Adrien by surprise as he expects it to be Nathalie. Blood transfer on one, and not the other.

Then all you have to do is drag him out, shut the door, discard the needles, pick Nathalie up and get their unconscious forms inti the getaway car. She was more likely to be the victim then the suspect at this rate. It was the only option that was making any logical sense to him.

However, he still didn’t have a shred of evidence to prove it. He’d be laughed out the room for even suggesting it. Just like when it had been an idea previously. He needed something and all he had was an unplated car that drops off the map after passing the only camera for a few miles. All he had was, at most, probable cause to suggest the driver being a viable witness.

Yet to jump at them being the actual kidnapper? There was nothing. He needed solid, non-conditional, evidence. Like Nathalie’s DNA sample. She worked for a designer. She had to have been pricked or cut by something sharp in her career. Even just a single time she caught her finger on some of his equipment while carrying the box for it would work if the blood was left unnoticed upon being transferred. 

He’d even take the other options even though it could take longer. A hair sample from a hair brush or saliva swab from a toothbrush would suffice for the DNA test. Her apartment was practically barren. She lived at the Agreste house more than anything. They should still be in the guest bathroom at the manor.

He really didn’t have the time to get a warrant to search her desk or living quarters. Every second counted now. He’d have to ask for permission. Dialling, he waiting diligently for the called to pick up. “Gabriel Agreste.” The monotone voice greeted, sounding more strained then usual. It wasn’t surprising. Any call must sound daunting to him. Any one could be a request to ID a body. 

“It’s Detective Claude. I’m a looking into a possibility right now about Adrien’s abduction. It’s imperative I find a sample of Nathalie’s DNA as soon as I can. A hair or blood stain from where a needle has pricked her without even realising it happened would work fine. Do you think I could drop by the manor and see if U can collect what I need? I’ll be in and out. I shouldn’t be long.” He requested politely.

”Of course. You don’t have to ask. Just do everything you can to bring my son home.” He agreed almost instantly. “Thank you, Mr Agreste! I’ll be round with a collection kit in an hour tops.” He thanked before hanging up. He had to get this sample and prayed it matched the bloody syringe.

Otherwise he really was back at square one all over again...


	22. Agoraphobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that qualified therapist are far better at their jobs then teenagers with daddy issues

When Gabriel sat down with Doctor Martin, he stood out painfully blank in the overly bright room. The last he’d been in was relatively grey scale. He could only pray that this was just a borrowed room she currently using as an office while her usual was occupied. He may not be an interior designer, but he had enough common sense to know many of those colours on the walls simply didn’t work.

"You're not going to like this, but a screening can be a good place to start when it comes to finding out what you’re dealing with." She smiled bluntly, handing over a piece of paper with several check boxes. One for not at all, two for sometimes, three for a lot and four being the majority of the time.

Little interest or pleasure in doing things? A 4 sounded extreme. His work just didn’t enthral him when worried. So a 3? Feeling down, depressed, or hopeless? It was just that one time he freaked out. He didn't feel happy, sure, but that sounded like an exaggeration so one would suffice.

Problems falling asleep, staying asleep, or sleeping too much? Okay, fine, that was a four. Feeling tired or having little energy? Four again, was this test made solely to pick on him? Poor appetite or overeating? Four. He hadn’t felt like eating at all recently. The chefs had to practically bully him into just having a sandwich yesterday.

Feeling bad about yourself or feeling as though you have let your family down? "This test is stupid.” He growled, hoping to set the paper alight in flames by glaring at it. "What question got that reaction?" Doctor Martin probed politely. "Well, the entire thing has a knack for pissing me off." He scoffed, tossing the sheet back on the table.

She caught the paper floating down beside her and peered at the answers. More specifically the lack of one god the final question. "Ah. It looks like you've been having trouble sleeping? Had the issue been going to sleep or staying like that?" She diverted, only earning a dismissive glare. “Both." He admitted begrudgingly after a minute.

"Any frequent nightmares?"

"I don’t see how that is of your business."

"Mr Agreste, for me to help, it needs to be. Like how you’re not eating either.“ She suggested, pointing to that check mark. He hated this with a burning passion. "I don't need you to list out everything that's wrong with me. I already know. I've fallen. I can't fix that." He snapped, now up on his feet and more than prepared to leave no matter the protests his sister in law would make.

"How do you think you've fallen behind?" She asked calmly. "Bloody hell... with everything! I freaked out over a name. I forget about the majority of the conference calls I have to attend, but when I do I’m completely silent and Audrey is still on my case about work."

"What's going on with your work?"

"I’ve just had a bad couple weeks. I'll add some more study time and design the line before the end of the season." Gabriel defended instantly. "You misunderstand my question." She corrected while shaking her head with that frustrating look that screamed he was missing something.

"You’re doing fine, but the timing just isn’t typical for you. Usually they’re all done within the week of being assigned the project, but your currently line is taking up the entire given time. I want to know what's causing the change in your usually consistent behaviour." Doctor Martin prompted, which made him shoot another incredulous glare.

"If you need time off to take care of yourself, that's okay. We'll work with your company and figure something out if you need to take your time off. I’m sure you’ve got months of saved up vacation. Take a week or two to collect yourself. If you're having trouble concentrating on it, that's a problem." She assured.

Gabriel flashed through a series of emotions, starting with suspicion and ending in confusion. "You're very focused on fixing your performance. Feelings actually effect that. I know prioritising those isn't something you do a lot, but taking care of yourself is how we can recover your A game." She observed.

"Then why's my head doing this? It makes no sense.” Forgive him for being childish, but he had to restrain himself from kicking her desk with a frustrated growl. "When you're in a stressful situation that you can't get out of, cutting off your senses and emotions makes it easier to endure. Instead of wasting energy on a continuous fight or flight response, your mind and body shut down. It's a useful defence mechanism. The problem is that once your brain learns to avoid stress that way, it dissociates when you don't want it to." She explained casually.

"Well then how do I make it stop?" He asked pointedly. "You have to let yourself exist here. Experience what you feel right now in the present and deal with it instead of blocking everything out, lets try.” She leaned back, tossing her clipboard away.

"What do you feel right now? I'm talking physically. Sounds, textures, a weird leg cramp, anything." He raised his eyebrow in confusion. “Alright. My shoulders and head hurt.” He realised.

"Stress causes pain in those spots commonly."

"It's too warm in here and I feel sick."

"I’ll open a window for you. No wonder you're not on your A Game. I can't treat you if we’re in the dark about what your problem is." She reasoned. 

"I don’t do emotions. I just want it to all calm down."

"That's the goal. The only way out is through.” She hummed sympathetically before pulling out another slip of paper. “One more screening. That’s it." He sighed in annoyance, but still took the paper from her hands.

Repeated, distressing memories, or dreams? Yes. Acting or feeling as if events were happening again? No. He was messed up, not traumatised. Intense physical and or emotional distress when you are exposed to things that remind you of the event. Seeing Nathalie’s name had been enough to send him off the rails. A solid yes. This sucked and he did not like where it was headed.

Avoiding thoughts, feelings, or conversations about it. Yes Avoiding activities and places or people who remind you of it. So what he avoided her desk like the plague and couldn’t even look at Adrien’s room door without feeling sick? Who wouldn’t avoid that?

Blanking on parts of the day you found out? He never even thought about that until now. There were definitely things he didn't remember. It was like he’d blacked out when the kidnapping had been confirmed. It's not like he was trying to remember anyway.

Negative beliefs about oneself, others and the world and about the cause or consequences of the event? What was that supposed to mean? Of course he thought negatively about it, his son got kidnapped and maybe worse. Was he supposed to act like the world was sunshine and rainbows?

Feeling detached from other people? Maybe? He‘d never really felt close to anyone in the first place, so maybe that was just him. He did feel alone in a crowd more than usual. Inability to feel positive emotions? Screw this quiz. Persistent negative emotional state? Didn’t the last question answer that? Problems sleeping? Now it was just repetitive. Yes.

Irritability or outbursts of anger? Okay, he wasn't exactly a reflective person, but he wasn't stupid. Yes. Reckless or self-destructive behaviour? He’d punched out his windshield, that qualifies as reckless last he checked.

Problems concentrating? Was that related and hadn’t they just discussed that? Feeling on guard about everyone? Yes. An exaggerated startle response? Jesus Christ, yes. This test was really look like it had been catered to him.

He threw the paper back at the table. She glanced through his answers and he loathed the look of pity that formed. What was it with people and bloody pity? It was always that same look. Every time.

"This data goes with what I had already suspected from out first session." She hummed, voice put together as if she was mire sure of something now. "And what's that?" He hopes it sounded as aggressive as he reeled to make it. "It looks like you’re struggling with Agoraphobia. A type of anxiety disorder."

Some part of him had thought the nightmares and the panic was a part of something bigger, but wasn't this a bit over the top? Anxiety? “It could of been there for longer than the kidnapping. It was most likely triggered rather harshly by it. Many people assume agoraphobia is simply a fear of open spaces, but it's actually a more complex condition. Someone with agoraphobia may be scared of travelling on public transport, visiting a shopping centre, leaving home, losing control or being in a situation that is unsafe with no easy way to escape. If someone with it finds themselves is stressful situation, they’ll experience the symptoms of a panic attack. Like rapid heart beat, hyperventilation, feeling hot, feeling sick and having outbursts of emotions.” She listed off for him, handing over a pamphlet. “Well if I’ve had it longer. Then where the hell did I get it?” He demanded.

“Agoraphobia usually develops as a complication of panic disorder. However, a minority of people with agoraphobia have no history of panic attacks. Like I believe with you. In these cases, their fear may be related to issues like a fear of crime, terrorism, illness, or being in an accident. More specifically for your case, I believe the bereavement is the case that contributed towards the agoraphobia. Your wife is missing, correct? And from what I’ve heard you’re quite the changed man. Not going outside, staying at home, keeping your son with you in fear of the outside world? When that’s started is probably the same time your agoraphobia did too.” Doctor Martin explained before leaning forward slightly.

"Trauma like that makes us more likely to develop it. All that’s going on in your mind makes total sense. You’ve mentally learnt that it could happen again, so you overreact to save situations as you feel like your environment is never safe. I’m sure you though your home was a safe haven. Nathalie betraying you like that would of taken the only thing you had that made you even remotely calm." She finalised.

"We're on earth. Of course it world isn't safe." He shrugged. "Your mind can only take being in danger mode for so long before it burns out. Eventually the overuse of your stress response makes it hard to function at all."

"This is really going to help me get back to being the best I can be for Adrien?" He demanded suspiciously. "The only way out the water is through it. You just have to let me pull on your safety wire and guide you back up.” She repeated. “Well then how do we fix it?” He gave in.

“Lifestyle changes may help. If you take regular walks in the garden to acclimates yourself, eat more, and avoid alcohol and drinks that contain caffeine it should help. We can teach you some self-help techniques that can help during a panic attack. We could also start with cognitive behavioural therapy. If they aren’t effective, we could even look into medication to control your symptoms. You'll usually be prescribed a course of selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors, but we’ll see how you go.” She smiled kindly.

“You want to medicate me?” He asked in distain. “Not just yet! I’ll set you some CBT sessions and give your sister in law a list of things I expect she makes sure you abide to. I will however prescribe you some sleeping medications to help you sleep and ward off the nightmares right now. Getting your sleeping schedule normalised might alleviate your symptoms.” She corrected, writing something out on her sketch pad.

Amelie and Félix will be even more annoying now they have a dedicated purpose to fulfil, won’t they? He could do this though. For Adrien. Whenever he gets back that is. Which will happen. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t.


	23. New room, new soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nathalie has her evidence, the new trial starts with a bang and they meet a new ally... well, ally slash victim. However you want to put it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long with updating. School really decided to take up all my time as of late -GG_Ladybug

Their room was blessedly quiet as she stared at the suitcase in her hands filled with files. It felt heavier then it probably was, but she could just put that to her mind being overdramatic of the meaning that was attached to it.

Even long after she had made the decision, her heart wouldn't stop pounding no matter how much she tried to calm it down. It felt wrong to use another pair's death to clear herself and list the groups crimes for the world to finally see. Vindicating the adults before her and proving the children's claims as nothing but the truth kept her somewhat chipper, but eventually the long and grisly deaths now seemed far too superior for the reward gained.

Even Adrien was unsuccessful in convincing her otherwise as she flicked through the contents. There was everything. Nothing that could possibly disputed in the court of law. They'd even ruled out the possibility of their own insanity plea should they be caught by providing psyche evaluations they had gotten done proving same of mind.

Fully written confessions, white card slips imprinted with each one of their fingerprints, photographs, VHS tapes, transcripts of what had exactly happened in her torture sessions, their criminal records and what seemed to be character assessments of her and Adrien. She didn't want to read those last ones. No matter how tempted she was. She couldn't bring herself to. The suitcase collection was a prosecutors dream and a defences nightmare.

The full hyperventilating had subsided, but it was only replaced by an internal humming that screamed at her to do something. Even if she had absolutely no indication of what that thing was supposed to be. Every noise seemed to get on her nerves. Even the birds chirping from the window.

Nathalie tried to use this transition period to be productive. Yet just as she got the first job done by securing the file in their escape bag, the door reopened and both the occupants turned in confusion. It was far too early for stage four wasn't it? It had only been what? Four hours since she returned from the last session? Where they going to be waiting for something again?

That wasn't her main concern however. It was more to do with that they had needles. Plural. Not needle. Needles. Had it only been one, her mind wouldn't of been so clouded with anger as it was jabbed into her neck. She knew the minute she went down, Adrien would soon follow.

That was how they now found themselves in what looked to be a newly constructed metal box. A far cry from the rough concrete of the building before. From the blurred look she got as her eyes opened, it was far smaller and lacking their acquired furniture. Well, what you could call furniture. Blow up beds didn't really constitute to that, but it was all she had for lack of a better word. So it was definitely not made for overnight stays.

That was good. Not a permanent. She didn't think Adrien would handle that very well if it was. He hated being locked up as it is. Being locked in a small space? Practically baiting the claustrophobia to come out. Their bug out bag was settled beside the door. Also good. They still planned to let them go. It at least keep the illusion up. It being there meant their departure would be efficient. A quick exit route with the lack of need to stop along the way and leave them previous minutes to change their minds.

Was it too much to hope they were all equally eager to get home? Surely some of these men and woman had families they were blowing off for this work. Some of the guards she'd accounted had practically been living there. Their significant others probably wouldn't be please about that.

Everything so far had been expected. Another stage starting meant new scenery, new motive and new ideas, all the while within their usual MO. What she hadn't prepared for was hearing Adrien converse with a new women in the cell. Sitting up in alarm, she fought off the banging headache courtesy of the drugs and stood up despite whatever sedative begging otherwise.

"Who are you?" She demanded distrustfully, motioning for Adrien to come closer. "No no! She's a friendly! Just another one these guys took. I've explained everything already since they gave me a lighter dose. We've had enough spare time to converse while you got some some sleep." He assured instantly, smile bright.

He had probably become friends with her. Nathalie didn't exactly blame him. The boy needed some kind of socialisation outside of herself, but she didn't want him to get too attached. With how stage three went, they'd been very outward with their lack of care for extra collateral in the experiment.

"What's your name? Where are you from?" She questioned. "It's Isabelle. Isabelle Mirren. France. Like you guys." Isabelle greeted kindly, voice strained of someone with a cold. Weaker than normal from a sickness so kidnapped her was probably easier then usual.

"Do you have any idea where we are?" Nathalie probed, glancing around the box like area and testing the walls for a door. Not finding one was confusing. How could they get in if there was no door? "Well I was visiting my mother in Creil when they took me. We were only driving for about twenty minutes." She recounted timidly.

Okay. Not in a different country. That's good. Just a disorientation tactic. In making them believe they could be somewhere completely foreign to them, it acted as sly manipulation. A diversion to attempting escape. "You said earlier how they only took the most suburban route to avoid any population. They took the backroads most likely. Creil to Clermont is about an 18 minute drive." Adrien chimed helpfully.

"Which means we're a one hour thirty drive away from Paris." She figured out instantly. Adrien's frowned slightly where he stood upon understanding how close they'd been to home this entire time. "They would've needed a 63 kilometre initial canvassing zone to even come across the area holding us. It was close enough to get past all the roadblocks before they were put up, but far enough away not to be found or suspected. It's no wonder they couldn't find a trace. But why allow her to tell us that at all? What does he want?" He agreed with a sigh.

"For you to choose." They startled, heads turning to the speaker acting as an intercom on the corner of the roof that they hadn't seen before. "You have as much time as you like. It's you three who will decide how long this final task turns out to be. Two of you will leave this room alive. One of you will die. You have to choose." He drew out ominously.

Choosing? So a more personal version of the third? Wasn't that just repetitive? No. They don't do repetitive. If they did, it was only because they had something else lined up just when she got comfortable with the system. She couldn't assume anything.

They waited for the man to say something more with no avail. "Ignore him. That's exactly what he does. Messes with you. That could mean anything." Adrien broke through nervously to Isabelle. Nathalie laced for a moment before coming to a stop when she saw their new guest shivering slightly.

“You look like you’re freezing. It’s hot in here. Does she have a fever, Adrien?” The boy tilted his head in confusion and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. “Yeah, she’s starting to burn up. Probably the flu.” He nodded. Damn. That was bad. If she had a shot immune system or underlying unknown conditions, this could get bad for her. Bad, and quickly.

“Could we die down here?” Isabelle broke through after a moment. Neither of the pair had the heart to tell her the truth in that moment. Why break her with that knowledge just yet? For all they knew, she was just there as a side task. Another section to their experiment. Helping a stranger after three months of isolation? Could they be gauging trust? Or was Nathalie simply overthinking this? To be humbly honest, she could admit it was probably the last option. “Let’s not guess anything just yet.” Adrien smiled lopsidedly, the same protective glint he had with her. Now she really hoped nothing befell the woman.

Adrien and his hero complex would really end up hurting him one day...


	24. Facts and Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nathalie has queries, they have a choice to make, Isabelle isn’t doing so good and then she’s doing even worse

She'd been staring at the vent in the ceiling for a solid minute now when Adrien finally decided to question her. "What? Do you think we could get out through it?" His voice only just managed to filter through her thoughts. "No. I just pray it's been connected to an air pump." She corrected.

"What? Why?" Isabelle croaked, sounding far more lethargic then she had earlier. "The kidnapping of Ursula Herrmann took place in 1981 in Germany. The 10 year old disappeared and a ransom note soon arrived. Two weeks after her disappearance, a grid search was undertaken. The police found Ursula's body in a box buried in the woods. It was furnished, intending her kidnapper hadn't intended for her death." She quoted factually, starting to point at what she'd been contemplating previously.

"However, the ventilation pipes didn't allow sufficient air exchange. She died of suffocation within hours of being placed in their. A similar kidnapping had taken place in 1968 and was probably the inspiration for Ursula's. The difference was those men had experience with making ventilation, so she was found unharmed. My quarrel isn't with the room or circumstances, it's with not knowing the air sufficiency for three people." She finalised.

"What? We're buried underground?" Adrien squeaked nervously, growing a shade paler. "If I'm right, yes. There's no door we could've been deposited through. So we could've only been lowered through the top. Someone would of just climbed a ladder up and down to drop us in. If you grapple a four wheeler car to a makeshift handle you've welded, you could open and close the top like a trap door." She demonstrated for him.

"They've probably put it underground so no one notices it. Enough to submerge the room and cover the top in a foot of dirt. Easy enough to shovel away enough to find the bar. Connect it to the car and press the gas and it’s open. Then just drop a ladder in and drive away by time we climb." Isabelle agreed.

"The intercom is just a means of speaking and hearing us. There'll be a microphone behind it. So they can hear everything we say and speak back whoever someone is watching." Nathalie completed. "Do you have a plan?" Adrien filled in. "Maybe. I'm not sure. It depends on exactly what they mean by choose." She shrugged before going back to pacing.

"She has a plan..." Isabelle whispered to the model next to her. "What are you talking about? If she has one, why hasn't she told us?" Adrien muttered back. The girl woman sighed and leaned back on the metal wall. "Because I'm not sick enough yet."

Adrien's head tilted in confusion, and he only got his answer a few hours later. They'd filled the time with conversation since their usual schedule had been disrupted enough for it to not make sense to follow. Without the gauge of time they usually had from the men delivering food and taking her away, there was no point.

Their new ally had since fallen rock asleep, skin almost impossibly white. Whatever she had must be worse then they'd first thought. Flu was too much of an understatement unless she had a condition they hadn't learnt about. Everything was relatively silent until Nathalie beckoned him over.

"This will sound terrible to hear, but she's sick. Pretty soon we could be too." She whispered after he'd reached the other side of the room. "I'm not listening." He refused instantly, seeing where this was heading. "She's dying already"

Adrien shot her a scandalised look at the mere steal of mentioning a possibility such as that. "What? Look at her, Adrien. She isn't going to make it. Even if she did, they'd dispose of her afterwards. We have to face facts. She's going to die here." Nathalie sighed.

"No. She's my friend!" He protested instantly, shoulders tense. "You can't save everyone." She assured. "You think I don't _know_ that!?! That doesn't mean we can't still _try_!" He begged harshly. "Adrien, I've seen people killed like lamb to the slaughter all month. I know better then anyone that death doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints. She's sick and dying." She emphasised. "No she _isn't_!" He almost shouted.

" _Yes_ she _is_!" Nathalie snapped back, making him recoil in shock. Lowering her voice when Isabelle shifted slightly in her slumber, she held Adrien by the shoulders and kneeled down to his height. Now she felt like she was being patronising, but it had to be done.

"She's _dying_ , but we don't have to. What we have to do is sacrifice our friend and we'll be safe. She'll understand. It wasn't like we wanted to do this. Even if we find a loop hole, how can you be sure they'll let all three of us go? If the police kill me, there would still be her to collaborate the four month experiment story. They can't have that. They'll shoot her the second we climb out. Did you ever think of that?" She informed, watching as Adrien's eyes started to water.

"He said we have to choose. We both know that means one of us have to die. If we don't, no one will ever know what happened. We'll die of dehydration and this box will remain under the ground as the world believes I was just some psycho that stole her bosses son and never returned." She reasoned, but he still looked willing to raise another point.

She really didn't want to hit him with a low blow, but it seemed to be the only option. "You'll never see your father again. You'll be dead." That one made his head snap up in alarm. "T-Then he'e be totally alone. Without me or mom, he has no one. I'm all he has left. I can't leave him." He breathed, tears falling.

"Then theorems no other choice, is there? I'm sorry about Isabelle, I really am. I know you got attached too quickly, but it has to happen." She apologised. Adrien was completely still for a moment, before he managed to work out a sentence, his voice shaky and desperate. 

"She's going to die anyway, right?" He questioned. "Yes she is. That's right. It's going to happen either way." She lied. Nathalie couldn't possibly know whether or not what she had was fatal. It could just be her bodies natural reaction to something harmless. It was all placed on bets. Her best was to assume the worst and go with it. "All right. Okay." He gave in. "We made our choice then."

As that sentence fell out her mouth, there was a clatter and a loud bang as something fell from the vent. It was probably dropped down by whoever was monitoring them. Nathalie took one look at the content and immediately understood why this task was enough to up the last month she'd experienced.

"What's happening?" Isabelle muttered, the noise clearly rousing her slight. "Nothing. Nothing. Go back to sleep." Adrien assured, eyes not leaving the object either. They had to wait a minute before they could speak again.

"He wants us to do it? He wants us to bludgeon her to death?" Adrien croaked in horror. "If that's what it takes to get out of this alive." She agreed bluntly. The teen's face contorted in a mix of disgust and terror. "No way. No bloody way. I can't. I can't. It's not happening." He rambled.

"Think about those American Football players that crashed in the Andes. You learned about it in school. They had to resort to cannibalism to survive, right? Think of it like that." Nathalie convinced, turning to him. Adrien had since gone silent, wiping away tears harshly.

"If you want to get into the morally, then Bible verse John 15:13. No man hath greater love than this: that he lay down his life for his friends." She justified, but just as his eyes softened in resignation, they widened in fear. "NATHALIE!" She didn't have much time to process what was happening before he pushed her to the floor.

Spinning around, the only thing she saw was Adrien disarming the hammer off Isabelle and throwing it as hard as he could in her direction. Her first instinct was to rush over and cover his eyes. It wasn't that hard of a situation to deduce now she hadn’t been ambushed. Clearly Isabelle hadn't been fully asleep again before they started finishing their conversation.

Self preservation kicked in, and if Adrien hadn't caught on, it would be Nathalie's blood ending up as a sizeable stain across the metal wall. Adrien's sobs reached her ears and she didn't quite know what to do and she pulled the teen close and forbade him from looking at exactly what damage he'd done.

Direct hit to the temple with the metal side. A good throw, fatal too. "Adrien I want you to listen to me right now. You did not kill Isabelle. You hear me? You just knocked her out." She bit out softly. The lack of movement from the other woman's chest said otherwise.

"You didn't do anything. You only went and incapacitated her. I'll do the next part, but I want you to repeat what I just said. You did not kill her in any way." She lied, spinning the boy to be back first from the body, cutting off any view he could try have. When tears was all she got, she tilted his head up. "Say it Adrien. I did not kill her." She ordered. 

"I-I did not kill her." He hiccuped shortly after. "Okay now go to the corner and cover your ears. Don't look. I'll do the rest." She didn't give him a choice before pushing him towards the desired destination. Retrieving the discarded hammer from the ground she looked to the still body on the floor.

“You have my condolences Miss Mirren.” She spoke aloud and started swinging directly at the head. It was unnecessary and only really succeeding in splattering her face and clothes with blood, but she couldn’t have Adrien keeping that on his conscience. She’d rather have the imagine of herself smashing in a corpses brain inside her head for all eternity rather then let him lead his life knowing he killed someone by simply throwing a hammer in self defence.

He didn’t deserve that, he deserved nothing less then happiness. Though in all fairness, Isabelle really shouldn’t of tried to attack Nathalie to save herself. Adrien was far more protective then he like to admit. Even Gabriel had his fair share of moments in the past where he’d punch out creeps harassing her at events. Maybe that just came with the Agreste package. High pay, plenty of work, on sight protection. She wasn’t complaining.

When she came to a stop, it was only because she was running out of breath and her arm was getting sore. Her only thought? Why where human heads so soft compared to a hammer? Was that in itself concerning? Definitely. Should she have felt anything else other than apathy? Oh yeah. Did she? Absolutely not. This damn experiment had really messed her up more than she thought.

Ripping off her blazer, she placed it over Isabelle’s head and used the sleeve of her red turtleneck to wipe off as much of the splatters as she could. Minimising how much Adrien had to see until they were let out was her new purpose.

Now she just had to calm him down, pick up the Bug Out bag and wait for the bastards that took them to get this godforsaken cell open so they could leave. “Adrien, you can look now.” She allowed. Apparently, seeing her form covered in splatters wad just as traumatic as seeing the body. That is if his cries were to be any guidance.

She was so close to getting both of them out... just a bit longer and they’d be home free. She could actually do this. She just had to put her mind to it. The hardest part of it all was coming, so she had to be ready. Not getting bloody shot during what SWAT thought to be a hostage situation was one of them.

”Come on Adrien. I want you to recite the period table and tell me their chemical equations.” Nathalie hushed as he sobbed into her shoulder. Distract the boy with science. That always worked. How she would distract herself however? She wasn’t entirely sure that was even possible anymore.


	25. Short

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a short conversation takes place between our two protagonists as they wait... that’s it. That didn’t sit right, but maybe that had been the whole point of these months. To make everything not sit right...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve seen a couple people notice, but I thought I best give the rest of you all a clue. In each chapter, I have at least one psychology trick that I’m using on you, the reader. You’ll even find several in some chapters. It’s what I use to not only create physical unrest at pattern breaks, but set borderline expectations in your minds. They happen without you even noticing. A neat piece of knowledge on conditioning I learned in my psyche classes. Kudos for anyone that can spot the technique I used today to unease the mind -GGLadybug

Silence. It was a common of occurrence now. No matter the situation, they fell into it at some point. It was a fixed point in her mental map at that point. She wasn’t sure she’d be ready for the constant bustles like fashion week when there seemed to be an endless stream of conversations, calls and ordering to be made.

None of the silence moments they’d lapses into previously had been quite like this however. Those were comfortable, happy or awkward. This was far too depressing. This wasn’t for lack of wording, but lack of emotions. The only way to phrase it appropriately was complete resignation.

Surprising, it was Adrien to break the startling tension without promoting. A couple days ago, he would only do that if there was a reason. If she was pacing, he’d enquire. If she was staring at anything, there’d be a subtle line of questioning. This broke the usual pattern. This one was totally unspecified. She didn’t know whether or not to be proud or concerned at the character development.

“I understand. Why father acts the way he does I mean. With the whole ‘the world is too dangerous for you to wander alone’ thing. It’s not like the shtik in itself is wrong. Is it? It might even be perfect. Up until four months ago, my biggest enemy was who? Teenage angst with Hawkmoth around? Now we’ve been entangled in this web that extends outside of Paris. A web so large no one can escape. One can have a brush and become free, but in the end, you always just end up being in a gap. A gap that surrounds you. There’s no way out but through. Which in itself is fatal. Humanity is god’s worst creation in that our free will has lead to early demises merely because others desire them too. How is that fair? How is that just?” Adrien muttered quietly, voice turning slightly spiteful at the end.

Nathalie’s eyebrows raised in shock at the information she’d just registered. Sure the boy had been open minded up until recently, but physiological? That wasn’t his area. That was Gabriel’s. Adrien was the optimist. She couldn’t have her light turned off. His optimism was everything to him. It’s what makes Adrien himself. Without it, what was he? Félix, but slight spicy from the trauma? Or just a smaller version of Gabriel?

Straightening slightly, she shuffled over to the boy to be right beside him. “We cannot banish dangers, but we can banish fears. We must not demean life by standing in awe of death. David Sarnoff. It’s not very long, but it answers that question. If we spend all our time questioning why others do what they do, we’ll turn out just like them. Sometimes believing is everything.” She quoted quietly.

Adrien thought for a moment, and his previously tense posture relaxed so his head was on top of his knees lazily. He glanced at the red stains over her blazer that laid just over the worst of the damage she’d done. They only lingered for a few seconds before he tore them away. “Yeah. Yeah I suppose your right.” He agreed.

It’s not a lot, but maybe she could fool herself into thinking that was the beauty of it. Then again, it was just another well constructed lie she was telling herself. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up creating a false reality.

Huh... back to silence then


	26. Walks, Talks and Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they are free, discuss their plans, banter and make promises...

She wasn't sure how they'd both slept through the roof opening above them, but the deafening bang or the ladder dropping down startled them into full cracked awareness. They made no moves until the sound of a running engine disappeared completely.

"Do you think they're gone?" Adrien whispered experimentally. "Only one way to find out." She replied, picking up the bag and giving it to the boy. "I'll call you up. Let me look around first." She demanded and started up the ladder. She came to a halt halfway up.

"Oh, don't move my bloody blazer. I say bloody literally and in figurative sense. You won't like what you see. If you're going to pay your reprieves, do it without looking under." She warned. He nodded feverishly, which satisfied her enough to continue. If that boy traumatised himself again, she'd have to be the therapist. That idea wouldn't go well. Sympathy wasn't exactly a strong point of her's to say the least.

Pulling herself successfully over the edge sent a twinge of pain through her arms when they met the jagged rocks and twigs of the forest they'd clearly been deposited in. Her eyes trailed across the area, hopeful when there was no vehicle or person in sight.

"Alright. Come on." She agreed, holding a hand out. He took a little longer to get out then she did, less then happy with the condition of the ladder which wasn't shocking. He adored that rock climbing wall in his room. She'd actually be more concerned if he didn't know how to asses a stable hold by now.

To save him the pain she'd exhibited, she held out a hand and pulled him up so he was standing. "Now what?" Adrien questioned nervously. "Look around more closely. Just to be sure we don't get ambushed." She ordered. Really it was just hypervigerclance more than anything. The five minutes they spent combing the immediate vicinity was probably useless, but it made her feel safer this way.

It just felt too easy. All of this and they're just let go? Just like that? Almost four months of hell and they just... leave? It didn't sit right. There had to be something else. Something else seemed just destined to go wrong. The only thing she got out of her search was a ziplock bag holding what they had on their persons when they were kidnapped. Minus their phones of course. Those had been destroyed long ago to avoid tracking.

Beside her debit card and money she'd had in her pocket, the silver ring he loved so much settled at the bottom of the bag. She'd heard him say how much he wanted to find that again through their time in passing conversation. When she held the bag up for Adrien to spot in the distance, the beam on his face as he sprinted over was worth the world.

"You found it!" He laughed happily as she passed the jewellery to him. Sliding it on his finger, he seemed to relax as if an old friend was in his presence again. "Okay we don't have a map. I didn't have enough time to ask for that. Plus we don't know exactly where we are exempt for the fact I can check the compass to see which direction. If we're going to get out of here, we'll need to find a trail." She hummed thoughtfully.

Adrien's eyes brightened and pulled something out his pocket. There was the odd bit of dirt on it, so he'd clearly found it during his own search. In his hand was a recent model of phone. Probably one that had come out during their capture. Last tome she checked, there wasn't two cameras on most phones.

"Would this help?" He smiled. Nathalie grabbed the phone with a suppressed jovial laugh. "I can't believe it! Adrien, you are an absolute genius for grabbing this!" She congratulated.

Nathalie exhaled to build up condensation on the touch screen to look for fingerprints and figure out the passcode. "I love new ones. Everyone has touchscreen. It's their falling feature. They're far too easy to hack into. Coded blackberries are a challenge. But these? You might as well give me a toddlers puzzle and ask me to complete it." She grinned, swiping the combination.

Adrien stared at her in confusion. She looked up and met his confused eye. "Did I not mention that I wanted to be an police hacker when I was your age?" She blinked innocently. The teen shook his head in amusement. "Didn't come into conversation, Nathalie, no." He chuckled.

"A lesson then. Always clean. Finding out a swipe code is as easy as lock picking these days. Just a few residue marks and all your information is child’s play to take." Nathalie smirked as she skimmed through the settings. "Wait, but what are we going to do when the guy that took us discovers his phone is gone?" Adrien queried.

"We only need it for tonight. We'll throw it in a Lost and Found later. Doesn't really matter. Find my iphone would only matter if I hadn't already turned it off because this idiot saved his passcodes in a note file." Nathalie corrected smugly.

"You're starting to sound like you've done this lots of times before." Adrien smiled with her. She lowered the phone that was now brandishing google maps. "Not all my life revolves around taking care of you, darling. Companies reputations to sink and what not." At that, she looked in the other direction as he giggled.

"You were the one that leaked Mateos unsavoury contacts then?" He chuckled after a second of brainstorming. "Oh, Adrien. This is where we at the company say no comment I’m afraid." She deflected, brightening the boy's mood further. "Now come on. We have a mile to walk until we’re out of here and another block until the hotel." She prompted.

As he caught up with her, his tilted head showed he didn't quite understand the last part. ”We need a room, Adrien. It’s dusk. Soon it will be nighttime and if we can’t get a car, I’m not risking us walking in pitch black." She answered. That only confused him further.

"What if they ask us for like ID? They might just recognise us. Aren't you overconfident we can pull it off without someone alerting the police?" At that, she smiled. "It's only hubris if I fail, Adrien. From Julius Caesar. Gabriel's got it on a shirt. He never wears the thing, but it's there. Even if he won't admit it." She quoted, smirking mischievously.

Really, the man had blamed her for Adrien's abduction. He deserved just a bit of teasing when they got back and judging by Adrien's equally joyous smile, he thought the same. Blackmail material was something she had enough for a lifetime.

“Hey. The Police. That’s a good point. Who do you think we’re going to get? For when they call this a hostage situation? NGIG or just normal armed police?” He realised. “Given our status and my ranking on the most wanted list right now, I’d assume the first. Which will not be fun for me to say the least.” She bet, taking another turn.

“What if... what if they actually shoot you?” He worked out cautiously, clearly a question he’d been purposely avoiding for a while. They’d gone through the basic guidelines, but it wasn’t like there was a step by step manual for this kind of thing. If there was, she’d gratefully ask for it. 

“Then apply pressure and get the med kit out the Bug Out bag if medics aren’t there straight away. There will be packers. Self explanatory to use. Even if you don’t have the time to get the files to them by doing it, they’ll open them eventually. It’s inevitable. We should be cleared as victims no matter the ending circumstances.” She relayed.

“But... you promise not to get shot right?” He muttered meekly. It took her longer then she liked to actually answer that one. Her mouth formed a denial a few times before she conceded. “Of course, Adrien.” She nodded seriously. “Well I heard promises only count if you say it aloud. So say it. Say you promise.” He tried again, voice ever so slightly shaking.

”I promise not to get shot, Adrien. I promise.” She repeated firmer, holding a pinky out. The boy interlocked his finger and shook, sealing the metaphorical contract. However now she looked back on it... right now... well...

She really should of got him to promise back...


	27. Have You Noticed Yet?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which sometimes last names aren’t coincidences and discussions of corruption are inevitable

“What?!? It’s been days! I put the hair sample in long ago! You should have a result by now!” Detective Claude shouted at whoever the poor officer was that had delivered the news to him. They really didn’t deserve it, but being told the wait you had to go through was for nothing. “I-I’m sorry, Jacques! We just had an influx of murders and the ME says those are priority.” He stuttered.

“And I’m looking for two missing people! One boy and one assistant that may damn well be innocent! For the love of god, we can’t afford to wait another unnecessary day! I should’ve had that test already!” He fumed, arms crossed over his chest. “Forensics falls to Doctor Martin. You know that.” Simons chimed from the side.

“Well someone tell Victor that I want the DNA sample tested by the end of the hour so I can collect an analysis this time tomorrow or so help me, I’ll have him across the lab before he can even try apologising. I’m sure his sister wouldn’t be too impressed knowing how long he’d put off her client’s own son for a serial killer that dropped off the map a few days ago.” He demanded.

“Will do, boss. Trust me, even the good doctor is terrified of Linda when she goes into scorn mode. I can only pray for Mr Agreste if he really took that offer.” The man agreed heartily, pulling away the officer kindly who was still shy from the verbal lashing.

The Bible

Psalm

55:12-14

Verse and chapter

For it is not an enemy who insults me. I could have handled that. Nor is it someone who hates me and who now arises against me. I could have hidden myself from him, but it is you, a man whom I treated as my equal, my personal confidant, my close friend. We had good fellowship together; and we even walked together in the house of God.

Some believe ones brother to be their closest friend. Do they not? So believing their own brother capable of evil is unthinkable, but it happens. The question isn’t who, but has it been noticed yet? Have you noticed just who is not pure of heart in the cause they claim to be fighting for?

There is a sizeable body of literature that attempts to wrestle with the thorny issue of how corruption might be defined. There is little need to review it all, though the matter cannot be ignored entirely. In short, there have been two main ways of approaching the issue. One looks at the different forms of behaviour and attempts to distinguish those actions that might be considered corrupt. The second seeks to construct a definition that can be used to separate corrupt from non-corrupt acts.

In truth neither is entirely satisfactory. The problem is that corruption is fundamentally an ethical issue. The simple but uncomfortable fact is that complex ethical problems are an inherent part of policing. The consequence is that complete clarity around conduct is impossible.

Even if problematic, thinking about the definition of corruption is nevertheless a necessary element in understanding. One of the leading scholars in the field offers the following definition.

Police corruption is an action or omission, a promise of action or omission, or an attempted action or omission, committed by a police officer or a group of police officers, characterized by the police officer’s misuse of the official position, motivated in significant part by the achievement of personal gain.

This offers a fairly clear guide to the idea of corruption. However, it is overly narrowed in one respect. It implies it all focuses on personal gain. It is worth looking at the variety of actions that might be included within a general categorisation of personal gain.

To list a few, there’s corruption of authority. When an officer receives some form of material gain by virtue of their position as a police officer without violating the law. Opportunistic theft. Stealing from arrestees, traffic accident victims, crime victims and the bodies or property of dead citizens. Shakedowns. Acceptance of a bribe to not following through with the consequences of a criminal violation. Protection of illegal activities. Police ignoring, allowing, helping, or eliminating threats to a business engaged in illegal activities. The fix. Internal payoffs. Flaking. Undermining criminal investigations or proceedings. Direct criminal activities. A police officer commits a crime against person or property for personal gain in clear violation of both departmental and criminal norms. Tipoffs and inappropriate information disclosure. Activities ranging from offering advance warning of police activities to criminals through to the inappropriate release of information to the media. Then finally, other forms of brutality.

Forensics analyst Doctor Victor Martin would be in violation of five of those above. The question isn’t have you noticed. Not specifically, but have you remembered? While being a doctor for the captured isn’t exactly evil, it isn’t good either. But the man that stands between the police and a positive ID would make one _hell_ of an accomplice. Would they not?

When corruption is uncovered there is a tendency within organisations, including the police service, to suggest or imply that the problem is one that is confined to a few rogue members or bad apples. This canard can be dealt with quickly. First, whilst it is perfectly possible on occasion for an individual or a small number of individuals to engage in highly unethical conduct, the history of policing has too many institutionalised examples of corruption for this explanation to carry much credence.

Moreover, the notion of bad apples has a number of far reaching and potentially damaging implications. First, it narrows the scope of attention, often directing concern away from others, often those in positions of power and authority, whose conduct also ought to be subject to critical scrutiny.

Second, it implies that, barring the individual bad apples, everything in the organisation is otherwise sound. This is rarely the case. Third, and linked to the earlier point, the very notion of bad apples implies little is required other than the investigation and punishment of these individuals. Punishment of a small number of individuals therefore becomes the default response to a corruption scandal. Such a response is flawed in at least two ways.

It is informed by general deterrence theory, and assumes that such punishments will send out a message to other officers about expected standards of conduct. This may have some substance but the evidence for any deterrent effect is not strong. Worse still, as suggested, such an approach fails to identify all those likely to be implicated in the wrongdoing. It often fails to hold supervisors or managers to account and also fails to confront the structural problems or issues that tend to underpin the misconduct at the centre of the scandal.

Indeed, there is little that could be more damaging to the health of the police service than recourse to a bad apples explanation in response to corruption. As the American reformist Commissioner Patrick V Murphy once put it, the task of corruption control is to examine the barrel, not just the apples because corrupt police are made, not born.

Then we have to recognise that not all police corruption is by no means straightforward. Especially when it is possibly to do with noble cause corruption. It remains a matter of particular importance within discussions of police corruption and integrity. Noble cause corruption concerns the extent to which it is reasonable to use the ends justify the means excuse.

In the literature, they call it the Dirty Harry problem. This is derived from the Clint Eastwood movie in which the protagonist attempts to save a young woman who has been abducted by using increasingly unconventional means to do so. How can one decipher whether or not the cop is trying to save a victim by doing so, or if they're just another heartless criminal to catch.

Is there a simple answer to the problem? Some would say yes, and that the answer is that means can never justify ends. Yet there are others who would openly disagree. Our real question is just how much can they trust the police now?

Is their problem nothing but a nobel cop trying to keep them safe... or the type which means those files proving their innocence will ‘get lost’ somewhere in the process and there’s a string of involved members? The universe just couldn’t stop throwing things at our kidnapped pair... could it?

Miles away, this was the exact same question Nathalie was thinking as she cane to a halt where she was pacing in the hotel room they had just enough money to afford for the night. If they'd gone with the card, they wouldn't of been able to stay long without the police swarming the last used area in an instance.

Actually getting the room was difficult on the other hand. She had to keep her head down and add the heaviest English accent she could. Every time the tired receptionist would look up, she instantly turn her head away as far as she could.

It was a good enough of a performance for them to not be in police presence already at the least. If the woman knew anything, it was clearly one of those hotels that attracted suspicious activity frequently. Or the kind that prided itself on secrecy and lack of cameras.

The sound of a running shower from the locked bathroom across the room was the only sound that filled her ears beside the news report. Everything deathly silent. It wasn't the contents in it that shook her. Even if it should considering those deaths they were reporting she’d chosen, but a single name that brought the world to a momentary stop.

"Yet again, the Parisian police are reportedly still empty handed on yet another high profile case in France's history. A violent string of grisly murders left Paris in fear as the mysterious serial killer slaughtered their victims in a wide variety of torturous ways. When questioned at the official police statement on the matter, respected Forensics Analyst for the police, Doctor Victor Martin, told us that they were all alive for extended periods of time while half had gunshots to the head from the same gun. With such an irradiated way of killing, we can only wonder how and when their next victim will be found. Until there is more evidence, the information we have is limited, but we will keep you updated."

Just that small segment. Not even a full report. Just a fleeting paragraph she heard from the television turned on across from her bed. Yet it was enough. She remembered the reason for this vividly. _"Good morning, Miss. I'm Victor Martin. I'm going to be the one fixing you up."_ The phrase uttered after one of the first sessions of stage ones from the good doctor. A memorable guy.

She'd thought it had been boringly common name. Even an alias. How wrong she’d been was almost amusing. Turning the device off, she stared at the wall for a minute before slumping in on herself. They couldn't go to the police. They had to bypass them completely or recruit a foreign alliance. Risking more of them being in on it wasn’t worth their lives.

She sighed to herself, voice strained. This was bad. Incredibly so. Their evidence can disappear into nothing if they gave it to the wrong person, or the right one transferred it to a corrupted officer to file it. If someone in even higher command was helping those bastards, they could order the team to shoot her on sight.

General Directorate for Internal Security were going to throw a fit when they found out they had terrorist aides in their own system. She had to start all over again. They couldn't just wait for the police to corner them and talk their way out. It was far too dangerous. She had to figure out what to do. No one had ever told her what to do when you need to call the police on the police. It wasn't exactly common either.

”Nathalie. Shower's free. I already hung your new clothes up you ask those guys for." Adrien's voice broke through as he buttoned up the white shirt she'd been awarded on the seventh day of choosing. She almost felt compelled to tell him the new development, but she couldn't bring herself. The boy was hopeful they were going to be saved. She couldn't crush that just yet.

Nathalie did realise how much they needed a shower now Adrien had actually mentioned it. Lavender and four months of capture tended to clash upon meeting. The nose helped quickly detect things that were new and strange. It had no use for the boring and typical. They must of had their brain filter out their need for a shower long ago as useless information.

“Right. Thank you, Adrien. Try and get some sleep. We have a long walk tomorrow. That or a long drive.” She nodded gratefully. If they got up at 8am, they could walk back to Paris in 13 hours and get there for 9pm. If they were lucky enough, they could skip that long walk by finding a car to Hotwire or catching a cab without suspicion and get there in an hour or so. Where they went from there? They’d figure it out...


	28. Drivers Ed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they set off on the road and Nathalie regrets allowing him a few minutes behind the wheel almost instantly

Nathalie decided relatively quickly that she was not going to try the taxi route. If they called up a company and someone recognised their voice, police would end up being their ride home. That or a coroner’s car for her. If they didn't realise until after they were in the back seat, they’d simply find the vehicle stopping right outside a station instead.

Both situations weren’t admirable to say the least...

She'd learnt how to Hotwire a while back. Another handy trick Gabriel had made some instructors teach her upon first joining his work force incase there was ever an emergency situation. The example they’d often used was someone trying to kidnap her as ransom and she’d dropped her keys. She couldn’t just accept the fate. It made much more sense to use the only way to start the car out there. She'd have to thank him for all of those lessons at some point in the near future. They were probably the only reason she was still alive right now.

Upon the engine firing up, she smiled in satisfaction and spun around to the teenager. From the hopeful look on his face as he started at the driver's seat, she could deduce where the conversation would inevitably head. "Didn't you and your father agree that if he got you the realistic setup for Extreme Racing 3, you’d never try to drive a car. At least not until you’re of legal age and requirement." Nathalie sighed with a hand on her hip.

Buying that racing simulator had not been a logical decision in the long run. Gear shift? Clutch? Gas peddle? Wheel?They’d practically just bought the boy a car which he could drive in his room without going anywhere. She would be willing to bet that he'd already taken the chance to drive something during an akuma attack in an attempt to escape.

Adrien shrugged noncommittally at that explanation. "Please! I only agreed to that because it was too early for that kind of thing! Father hadn't gotten any sleep because he was working all night and he forgot that five isn't an acceptable time to set up a verbal contract! I needed sleep. Not a conversation I would have to commit to." He whined, face pouting slightly.

"You are not driving this car. If we get pulled over and they already think I'm a kidnapper, I don't want to be labelled as an irresponsible one too." She repeated, resigning the urge to push him herself to the pass she’d side as he groaned in defeat and gave into her wishes.

As they buckled next to each other, she took a minute just to stare at him in disbelief and wonder how she ended up looking after someone so irritatingly stubbornly insufferable just like his father. "Oh! Uh remember that you love me for all my quirks even if you won't admit it." He added hurriedly upon seeing her current face.

Well, apparently he seemed to be emotionally psychic just like Gabriel too. Even if he was minus one magical kwami broach. "I _might_ consider letting you take the wheel for a few minutes on the backroads. But _only_ on the backroads. Deal?" She conceded begrudgingly once they'd set off properly. Adrien's wild grin told her he approved of the decision.

If they got _all_ this way and Adrien killed them by crashing the car, she'd throw a fit at him in the afterlife. She was _not_ going to survive being held _hostage_ and end up being taken out by a fifteen year old in a metal death trap. If so, she could promise _somebody_ would be getting haunted out of spite.

The road trip was surprisingly not as awkward as she'd envisioned it to be a few months ago. If anything, seeing Adrien sway happily to the songs playing on the radio was a freeing sight for her.Anything that took the boy's mind off what had gone down with Isabelle would be marked down as a more than welcome occurrence from now on.

She'd debated throwing away the clothes after they'd been showered and put on the new ones. It wasn’t like they didn’t have identical sets back at home. It took a minute, but instead she ended up pushing them into the bottom of the bag for later when the police wanted evidence. She’d rationalised it by putting it to the family out their with a missing daughter who they didn’t know was actually dead. Dead by her hand. Left dead in a metal box buried underground with just a suit blazer left over her decimated skull for the next person to unveil. They deserved to know. If the body was never found, or never ID, maybe blood samples would work.

It wasn't like they would ever be wearable again. Not unless they were so out of sound of mind that it seemed like a perfectly acceptable thing to parade the streets with blood stains all over their attire like it was a bad nineties fashion line based on horror. It was still rush hour, so if someone managed to catch a fleeting look at them in the car, blood would surely be an instant police call.

She'd never been a fan of driving during prime time. It's the main reason Gorilla tended to be the one driving him to and from school unless there was no other person available beside her. Right now, it was a sacrifice she was willing to make for Adrien. She had to remind him a few times to keep his head down whenever they needed to slow to a halt. If anyone saw his hair and make the connection, they’d find themselves surround by police. He was too recognisable for his own good.

The only part of this she actually dreaded was when she had to fulfil her promise. She came to a halt on the deathly empty rural road. She had found it next to impossible to take back her word. All Adrien had to do was smile at her and she would find her courage failing immensely.

Nathalie made sure to take a look around the empty area to be sure there was no obstacle they could possibly hit. Adrien couldn't possibly be bad enough to hit into a tree at least, so she had that much to comfort her. "Shall we?" She soon prompted. He hopped out of the car quickly to take the driver's seat before she could could change her mind. Was letting him drive a bad idea? Most definitely. Was she still going to do it? Of course she bloody was.

"Okay, I've never had to do a verbal check list, but I'm sure you'll want me to." Adrien started, tugging her mind out of her thoughts. "Seatbelts are on, I’ve adjusted the seat and mirrors, your secured in along with the baggage and roads are currently safe." He listed off mentally. Nodding in approval, she pointed to the pedals.

"Even if you know this, I'm telling you anyways. When you're ready, put your foot on the clutch. Start the car, go into first and take the handbrake off. Find the biting point and start releasing the pressure." She ordered. Adrien did as he was told, even if it was going too slow for what he apparently already knew.

When it successfully started rolling into a slow start without stalling, she continued her instructions. "Good. Now press on the gas pedal on the far right to speed up. Every time you want to go into another gear, push the clutch again while doing so or you’ll stall."

With more practiced skill then she’d originally anticipated, he went from first to third before she could really register he'd already passed the second. What she didn't like so much was that they were already going 40 kilometres an hour when she'd just placed him in a car for the first time in his life.

"Adrien you're going a little fast." She advised, already gripping the roof handle from instinct. "Oh my bad. It’s a force of habit. I have to set off relatively quickly on my game. It tends to be easier when I don’t think about it." The model quickly apologised, looking down at the rising speedometer. "Just go back down to second." She corrected as Adrien turned another corner. 

"Sure!" He smiled happily. Too happily. What she now realised she’d forgotten to take into account was the cheek he had before saying so. Almost immediately after saying that, he was speeding up and kicking it into fourth and fifth gear. "ADRIEN, SLOW DOWN NOW!" It came out a little more panicked then she'd ever allow Adrien to repeat to anyone, but it got her message across. 

By some miracle, he slowed it down perfectly and pulled in to the side right where the backroads she'd put them down ended. Adrien laughed brightly at her. "Thank you, Nathalie! That was brilliant! You’d make an amazing Driving Ed.” She rolled her eyes at his very nonchalant demeanour about actively trying to give her a heart attack and readjusted her glasses from where they'd gone slightly askew.

"I'll take it from here and get us home." She interrupted, more than happy to return to her place to drive responsibly while fixing him a half hearted glare. "Oh? That sucks. I was just getting into the hang of it. I could drive us all the way if you want." He suggested, voice overly innocent as if purposely mocking her earlier strain. "No. I think I’ll wait until you get your license before I ever let you on a motorway with me inside the car.” She debuted instantly.

She could easily say that the moral of this story was that she could clearly never trust the youngest Agreste with herself in a motor vehicle because he was just a little _too_ good at it for her tastes. Actually, she’d have to put it on her mental schedule to have a serious talk with Gabriel about that Racing Sim of his later. He can go back to controller for a little while.


	29. Medication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gabriel/therapy is the one true pairing because he really does have some issues and they discuss options

Gabriel Agreste remembers a lot of things from heart. Whether it be a school lecture from university or a fashion report. As of late, Amelie and Félix had been rather insistent he keep researching and going to sessions about the agoraphobia diagnosis. He'd attempted to walk out when they'd placed him in front of Doctor Linda again, but he'd spun back around and went back into the office upon seeing his sister-in-law's and nephew's warning glare from the waiting room seats.

Why he bothered to fight them with anything these days he didn't know. Those two were even more persistent then Adrien and Chloé when they were younger. These sessions were even more awkward then the first one. Now he actually had a diagnosis, that meant he had to let her into his mind a lot more than before. It was like they'd finally created a commitment. Before it was just unnecessary chats, now they actually had a purpose.

"Learning more about agoraphobia and its association with panic disorder and panic attacks may help you control your symptoms better, Gabriel. I know you might not like coming here very much, but it will help you. I can even start coming to your house instead if that's what you'd prefer. As long as you're comfortable, I'll help you." She assured

He set an annoyed glare her way and retook his earlier seat. "I don't see the point. We know what's wrong with me. How could more talking fix that?" He questioned coldly, leaning back in disinterest. "There's nothing wrong with you Gabriel. Your mind is just processing things a little differently then others, which is far more common then you think it is. For example, my brother is a diagnosed sociopath. That doesn't stop him from doing his dream job and really trying to make true connections. We don't try to fix him, we just try to make him happy. That's all that really matters in this room. That you're the best you can be." She explained in that motherly tone that both irritated him and calmed him down so.

"Having more confidence in knowing you can controlling your emotions when they're running high can make it easier coping with previously uncomfortable situations and environments. If this room is making you uncomfortable, it might just be because you're letting yourself believe that it is. You may have Agoraphobia, but that doesn't mean you have to be afraid of everything. There could just be specific things that set you off." She added before he could protest to that.

"So what? You believe that the diagnosis in itself is making me worse? Like a placebo?" He questioned with a scoff. "Well how many more panic attacks have you had since I told you what I suspected?" She smiled softly, eyebrow raised. At that, he quietened down in embarrassment. "Just a few." He grunted quietly, eyes lowered. 

"Define a few." Doctor Martin repeated curiously. "It just depending on the situation. It's not like I'm breaking down every breath." He shrugged. "Would you say you're unable to leave the house at all from tome to time?" She probed. He rolled his eyes and waved a hand to the office as of it was the most obvious thing in the world and she was missing it. "Well I'm here, aren't I? I'm not having a panic attack as far as I can tell." He mused sarcastically.

"So you can travel short distances. I'm only a block from your house. Would you say you could go from the manor to Normandy by yourself tomorrow for no reason other than to go sightseeing with a bunch of strangers?" She imputed. His silence was answer enough apparently.

"That's totally normal, Gabriel. Some people find it easier to go out to a familiar setting then others do. In coming here several times, you've comforted yourself to this place. You know you're safe and have power. If I set you in the middle of nowhere, I'm sure that would be very different." She nodded.

"Well then why did I start having one inside the house then? Unless running away from your own manor and driving into the forest to calm down is viewed as normal now?" He snapped defensively, arms crossed over his chest. "I'm getting to that. When you had your son taken away from you, it became a place of bad mementoes. A constant reminder. I think it's perfectly reasonable for you to no longer feel completely comfortable confined there for long periods of time." She answered calmly.

"So what? My anxiety decided to say that now nowhere is safe for me?" He laughed in disbelief, throwing his hands up in the air in anger. "Not at all. The problem isn't the house, Gabriel. It's the memories and associations attached to it. When you see something that reminds you of Adrien, you instantly connect that to the fact he's gone somewhere you don't know and can't help with. That's your main trigger. Being in any kind of situation you feel as though you can't control." She went on.

"It's like what I said about being in the middle of nowhere. You're not scared of being lost, your scared that you can't do anything about it. If you pay close attention to your life after the disappearance of your wife, where I believe you developed it or at least aggravated an existing mild version of it, you'll see that you avoided all things you couldn't have some sort of hand in. To put it into different words, Mr Agreste, you became a bit of a control freak because of your trauma." She finalised.

"That's preposterous! Name me one instance I've ever acted like that?" He demanded, eyes ablaze in offence as if she'd just set the world on fire before him. "Well for one, refusing to send Adrien to school until he had a body guard with him, not allowing Adrien to spend time with friends you didn't directly meet and approve of beforehand, not going to the Gabriel Fashion HQ for conferences and instead doing so by video call, the same with things like parent meetings at Adrien's school, arranging precise schedules that you don't want to derive from at all costs and spending all your free time in your office where nothing surprising can happen outside of what you allow. You constantly avoid or change things slightly so you can be one of the orchestrators behind it. Even in small ways. Like repeating what someone already said to make it seem as if you'd already approved of it or set it up, just to make yourself feel better. Do you not?" She listed, counting on her fingers.

Okay, fair enough, but now he was feeling a bit attacked. "You raise... a valid point. I do like to be in control." He worked out quietly, leaning back further as though he wanted to shrink in on himself. “Admitting you have a problem is always the first step in everything, Gabriel. The next is actually getting treatment.” She encouraged before moving forward on her seat.

“From what Amelie tells me, you’ve been making the lifestyle changes I suggested before.” Doctor Martin questioned. He was more than happy to abide the subject change. “Yes. Regular exercise to help relieve stress and tension to improve my mood. I’ve had healthy well balanced foods as poor ones make the symptoms of panic worse. I’ve avoided alcohol and drinks containing caffeine to avoid the stimulant effect. Trust me. They’ve been breathing down my neck about it. I doubt I’ll forget until the day I die.” He repeated dully.

“That’s brilliant! Have you noticed any change?” She applauded, eyes brightening at his compliance. “I suppose coming back down from panic attacks has been easier. I’m not as drained as I used to be.” He rationalised, shoulders shrugging in noncommittal.

“Great, that means progress. Avoiding someone of the symptom stressors seem to be working well to relieve the effects. I’m still worried about the amount of panic attacks you’ve been having. You say that the advise isn’t reducing them, only the effects?” She hummed to which Gabriel nodded in affirmation.

“Okay. Well I’ll give you some things to do for when you have panic attacks. Coming out of them in one piece is just as important as preventing them.” Doctor Martin decided after a second. “Please. I’m all ears.” He offered.

“Stay where you are. You said before you ran out the house and drove away? Try to resist the urge to run to a place of safety during a panic attack. It’s usually safer for you and those around you if you keep them to one area. That and then you have people around you all the time that can help. Focus. It’s very important for you to focus on something non threatening and visible, such as the time passing on your watch, or items in your office. Keep reminding yourself that the frightening thoughts and sensations are the first sign of panic attack coming on and it will eventually pass.” She started, stopping slightly to make sure he was still listening and hadn’t zoned out.

“Breathe slowly and deeply. Your feelings of panic and anxiety can get worse if you breathe too quickly. Ty to focus on slow, deep breathing while counting slowly to 3 on each breath in and out. Challenge your fear. Try and actively work out what it is you fear and challenge it. Try and beat it. I’d it’s a word that sets you off, try and work yourself up to saying it. Keep reminding yourself that what you fear isn't real. Don't fight an attack. Trying to fight the symptoms of a panic attack will just make things worse. Instead, reassure yourself by accepting that although it may seem embarrassing and your symptoms may be difficult to deal with, the attack isn't life threatening and you can call for help.” She finished before pulling out a blank car from her pocket and scrawling a series of numbers on it.

“This is my personal cell. You can call me anytime, anyplace, anywhere. I’ll be there to pick up the phone no matter what. If you ever need someone to talk to, cry on or just shout at from the top of your lungs when it feels like the world is going against you, I’m just a single phone call away.” She smiled softly, allowing him to take it from her hands.

“I... appreciate it, Doctor Martin.”

“Please, call me Linda.”

“Right. Thank you, Linda.”

“Now I’m going to ask you a question and the answer is entirely up to you. Okay?” She added after a moment of silence. “How do you feel about maybe trying a medication? You seem to have moderate symptoms, but it’s really bordering on severe. This way, we might be able to manage it without even needing CBT.” She suggested softly.

“No. Not at all. People will talk.” He denied. “Who? The pharmacist you’d get them from?” She questioned. “They all do. Someone gets gossipy and eventually it spreads everywhere. That or someone just straight up contacts the news. The media isn’t fun. They’re already reporting about Adrien every five seconds. I don’t need them adding in the fact I’ve been medicated too.” He agreed, scowling at the thought.

“There’s nothing wrong with needing a boost, Gabriel. That and I’m a licensed Psychiatrist, remember? I can write up a prescription here. You don’t have to worry about all that.” She assured. Assuring. She did a lot of that. “I’ll... think about it.” He nodded.

“Alright. I’ll write you up for a bottle of Paxil. That way you can take one whenever you feel comfortable enough to try. Don’t feel pressured. If you take one and decide you want to opt out, no one is forcing you to continue. It might help your symptoms if you just know the option is always in your right pocket.” Her pen met the paper of her notepad and there was a few seconds of strokes before she ripped the page out and handed it to him.

“If you go to the receptionist on the way out, she’ll be more than happy to get some from the cupboard for you. Don’t worry. She’s sworn to secrecy on everyone that comes to and from these doors. No one but you and your family will ever know.” Doctor Martin directed.

“Right. Thank you again, Doctor- Linda.”

“My pleasure. Same time next week?”

“If that’s what Amelie booked.”

“Sleep well, Gabriel. Don’t threat to call.”


	30. Click Of The Brain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nathalie was wrong and she hadn’t taken every scenario into account like she first believed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In advance... I am every so sorry for the deceit, but the human mind is often fickle to believe ideas repeatedly suggested. Reinforcement psychology is one hell of a bitch in stories, huh? -GG_Ladybug

Adrenaline, according science, was a stimulant secreted by the adrenal glands. However if you ask any member of law enforcement or military, it was the burning rush you got during the chase. That knowing that you are closing in on your suspect. The hyper-awareness that you feel just before a mission.

Yet if you was to ask Nathalie as she drove to their impeding fate, it was the only thing keeping her from breaking down and powering on. It allowed her to ignore what could only be phantom pains in her ribs and brush aside the memories fighting forward in her mind.

It was only Gabriel's voice that filled her mind as they crossed the threshold into the city with all the traffic building up as per the norm. Back when she had taken the survival lessons as per his order, the instructor had listed all the possible characteristics and reasons an unknown subject would want to kidnap them for.

She’d managed to conclude during her drive that the conclusion they were not just dealing with their normal group of sickos, but a well organized, well disciplined group of terrorists was true. Before it had only been that of a well educated hunch, but thinking back to what the file had admitted upon, they’d all but confirmed it in words.

Logically, she knew this was yet another well placed diversion she’d spun herself to ignore the fact they were currently near the end of their ordeal. Yet it seemed to help muffle the growing anxieties in the out of her stomach. This could go one of four ways. Each far more successful or worse then the last.

She was shot and Adrien clears her name post mortem with the files. She was shot and Adrien can’t clear her name as someone stole and destroyed the evidence. She wasn’t shot and the file was destroyed, earning her a hefty prison sentence. She wasn’t shot and they cleared her name with help from the files so they got their happy ending

The one she preferred was pretty obvious. They had no input over the actions of others. She was quite sure that it was the lack of control that was unsettling her at the passing moments. How... Gabriel like. The old her would’ve been alarmed.

She probably would’ve already from the repetitive sentences and scrambled rants that couldn’t be decoded accurately by anyone outside her own thoughts, but small steps she supposed.

It was only on the final stretch did the situation finally fully form as she pulled on the side of the road. Main police station of the city across from them. “We didn’t plan this far ahead...” Adrien noted, watching the officers passing in and out the doors curiously.

“No I suppose we didn’t. I thought we would’ve surely been pulled over or spotted by now.” She agreed dryly, tapping the wheel nervously. “So what’s the course of action?” He demanded energetically, eyes glinting in determination. She scanned the area for a moment.

“I can’t go in. I’d be arrested or taken aim upon the first officer seeing me. The file could get into the wrong hands that way. Same for both of us. They’d think I’m using you as a bargaining chip or a shield and mark me a threat. Special forces would come in minutes. The only viable choice would be to send you in, but that comes with equal risks. I’ve read the file. I know the faces of the ones we can’t trust. You don’t and make one false move, the file is in the wind.” She explained thoroughly, quieting when they saw Gabriel, Amelie and Félix entering the station.

“But them? They would listen.” Adrien muttered happily, smile growing. “Yes they would, but we have to settle for the possibility they could still think I’m involved even after reading enough to get the gist of the situation. We either go all out or we go with the safe option. Both come with risks. Like the chances of reinforcements getting here and not knowing the situation fully before taking the shot. It’s a perfect balance I need to decide.”She agreed.

“That and we don’t know if someone that controls those reinforcements are intermingled with the web too. They could order the shot on the one pretence of stopping you and nothing more while they have the chance.” He added. Shifting in her seat, she shook her head softly.

“Everything is dangerous, but we don’t have any other option.” She sighed, eyes narrowing on the police department. “Félix. Give the file to Félix.” Nathalie decided permanently, leaning back. “What? My cousin? Why him?” Adrien asked instantly in bemusement.

At first glance it didn’t seem at all a smart decision to make, she’d give the boy that. However he also came with perks. “For one, he doesn’t trust well enough to give it to any random person that asks. You tell him outright to read the files thoroughly and photograph the pages, he will do so with every fibre of his being. He’d stubborn and he relates to you. We can use that to our advantage.” She smiled.

Adrien’s eyes lit up in understanding before reaching over to the back and hauling the suitcase of files from the backseat. She spent a minute to reflect before groaning. “Why is it always me? I don’t get paid enough for this shit.” She cursed.

“Language Nathalie.” Adrien commented cheekily. “Please don’t give me that. I should get a pass. I’m about to get a bullet to the shoulder for god’s sake.” She rolled her eyes in disbelief. ”Fair enough...” He granted with a grin. ”Though seriously, if worse comes to worse, you might want to step away from me before they kill me so you’ll be safe.” She informed quietly.

“But I won’t let it get to that point.” He assured while opening the car door. “God have mercy on our souls.” She mumbled mostly to herself more than anyone. “I think he abandoned us a long time ago, Nathalie.” Adrien laughed.

“Good luck. Signal me when you think it’s safe for me to come out without getting tackled to the ground.” She smiled encouragingly. The teen smiled softly and saluted with the new purpose. She kept an eye on the street as he hurried across the pavement, case in hand, all the way until he opened the doors and caught everyone’s attention.

She couldn’t hear what was happening from now far she was. Yet Gabriel, despite looking ruffled and not as perfectly held together as usual, was still visible pushing forward in the crowd. From the way he moved, he looked to be resisting the urge to jump over and hug the kid.

The thought of that brought a smile to her face as Adrien was making various gestures with his hands to the black suit case and his cousin across from him. The police were most definitely trying to convince him to come inside to perceived safety.

She’d clearly taught him well since the vigorous shaking of his head was still clear to her. The tennis match of debate was getting heated until Félix reached out for one of the files Adrien was offering him. The conversation continued. From there, she expected the boy to pipe up to confirm the claims in a minute or two, not to wait another seven as he seemed stuck on the first page that was nothing more than the introductory.

Why was he taking so long? Félix had always been a fast reader. Just like Adrien. Unless he was in some from of emotional shock, he had no reason to not continue on with the evidence presented. Not unless he was stalling for something. Her tapping on the wheel was getting faster in her humorous.

Was he really shocked? Was he just confused at what he’d been given and was still being told all about it by Adrien? Had they handed him a false file by accident? Had someone in there whispered for him to only appear to read in the crowd? Was he just-

Oh who was she kidding here? It was that last one. Without a doubt. Adrien seemed to have also noticed something was clearly off since he was getting incessantly uncomfortable where he stood, looking back and forth from the group before him and the car. The movement of his mouth meant he’d finally questioned it.

Eyes narrowing at the police officers, upon concerns being raised, one immediately stepped up to Félix’s defence. That was a good a bet as any to the person who told him to not read so they could buy some time. But time for what? Wait for her to come out in impatience?

No no. The reinforcements. Judging by the sudden movements on the roofs around the station, they had already gotten there. Quite recently too. The same officer defending Félix’s lack there of reading seemed casual. Like he‘d expected it to go down like it was. How would he have any idea how something should go down unless they were in on it?

Surely he was part of the corruption. He was probably betting on the fact she’d get out the car to assist and offer herself the perfect target practice for the fellows on the roofs. She couldn’t fall for that. If she did, then she’d end up eating a bullet.

Now her eyes were narrowed impossible so. Something was right. She was missing something. Missing something that was burning before her. It had to be the adrenaline. The subcontinent mind can make connection long before the conscious part. That’s why when the click moment came, it was so satisfying.

Officers. Gabriel. Adrien. Officer that had defended the slow reading now speaking on a cell phone, clearly happy. Special task force. One also on the phone equally happy. The public noting the commotion and filming. A singular laser on Adrien’s back moving slightly.The man up there not being part of the team and merely a man with a sniper. Félix with the file. The phones. The laser. The gun. The group. The man. The officer. Victor Martin.

Oh she’d been an idiot. Her eyes widened and she struggled to get free of her seat belt. Throwing the door open took far longer then she wished it had. She’d been so so stupid. So utterly blind and idiotic. She’d been so clouded by the ideal of being free she hadn’t seen what was right before her. What had been hinted from the very start.

What she’d done to Isabelle wasn’t the final task. Getting her hands dirty wouldn’t of phased her. No, they would of had to get dirtier for them to be satisfied in anyway. One kill didn’t do that. A kill she technically didn’t even initiate. It was just the starter of the sequence of events that lead to the final moment.

The curtains falling action

The big... bang you could say

“ADRIEN!” She screamed in alarm. The boy turned in confusion and there was the loud crack that filled the silent air. A gunshot. The click connection puzzle pieces in her brain wasn’t at all satisfying like afore mentioned. No. It was the complete opposite. 

She’d never hated being so right before in her entire existence...


	31. Blood On The Pavement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which blood is spilled, cases are made, Jaques Claude is most certainly a good man and Gabriel reaches the point where he takes his god damn medicine

> _“Words have no power to impress the mind without the horror of reality -Edgar Allan Poe.”_
> 
> _“Death holds no horrors. It is simply the ultimate horror of life -Jean Giraudoux.”_
> 
> _“The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary. Men alone are quite capable of every wickedness -Joseph Conrad.”_

When she'd read those as a child, she'd rolled her eyes. When she was kidnapped and everything was mocking her in the 'clicheness' of it all, she was indecisive. If every other thing that she thought wouldn't ever happen in real life actually happened, why wouldn't that? Now she had all but confirmed it.

The world _sucks_

She watched with horror as the teen, who looked confused and weary before, became fearful at the sight of the red laser tracing his chest upon turning around at her panicked shout. After the bang, there was an unearthly silence. Not a single sound was made.

She had hoped that maybe, just maybe, the sniper was a lousy shot. How lucky would she be if the bullet had lodged itself somewhere in the pavement or a building harmlessly? Of course, then red started to blossom out from the white shirt Adrien was sporting and that prayed beg was obsolete.

He looked down at the offending wound in shock, eyes wide, but no pained yelp made it past his lips like she'd expected. She was right. Adrenaline really was a wonderful thing. As everyone froze over what they had just seen, she noted that it didn't matter to her what they was doing anymore. She'd been monitoring them so close not even thirty seconds ago. Now all her focus had been shifted.

Having a hostage taken out wasn't exactly what they all had planned when they'd called in the GIGN. She knew that, but she couldn't help but blame them. Had she been shot down instead, they would've jumped into action immediately to keep Adrien safe and get her medical attention. Even if just to stand trial.

Yet their feet remained firmly to the ground. They weren't at fault. No sane officer prepared for the person they were saving to be killed by their very team, so she wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt of simply not knowing how to continue from there. The logical part of her brain did. The emotional part however? They can go fuck themselves for lack of a PG term.

NC-17 it was

Nathalie heard a shrill scream of his name from an unknown source as Adrien's hand raised to the centre of his now blood soaked shirt, falling to the stone floor. She sprinted towards him, catching him before he completely collapsed to the ground. At some point she'd grabbed the bag on her way out the car and was ripping out the medical kit in a rushed manor.

She looked down and her panicked eyes met his own. They were wide with startlement and his breathing was far too short in between each other. If he didn't already have a pneumothorax, it would be a miracle. He could hardly move his head to look at her, but he did.

"What... happened? This was... wasn't the plan." His asked her with the utmost terror she had ever heard from the boy. She didn't know, she didn't know what had just happened. She’d been so blind to miss it. The clues had been right there and she’d dismissed them. "A hospital! We need to get him to a hospital!" She demanded. 

She knew there wasn't enough in the kit alone to treat him. A gunshot wound first aid kit can only go so far without proper medical attention. The police and people surrounding them remained still, all in shock over seeing what had conspired before them. She was barely able to catch sight of the man who had shot him surrounded by his own ring of GIGN who were holding the man down and arresting him for what had obviously been a purposeful attack.

Even as the law enforcement did nothing in their shell shock, Gabriel was pushing through and already calling for an ambulance. God, despite how much spite she held over him for blaming her in the beginning, she could kiss the man for being the first to act. She was running out of time. She had to take matters into her own hands.

"You! Tell me your name and help me!" She snapped instantly to the police right in front of her. He looked to be protecting her from the snipers view. If he thought she was a bad guy, he wouldn't be doing that. Trust worthy enough for now. She didn't see his face in the file so she'd run with it.

"Detective Jaques Claude. Call me Jack. What do I do?" He answered, opening the kit for her and pouring out the contents to the ground. Once again, she found herself thanking Gabriel internally for the extensive first aid lessons upon her hiring. "Give me the chest seal. Not the occlusive dressing. It'll do more harm then good if it's not vented." She demanded, unbuttoning the shirt.

There was a rustle of packaging before Jack held it out to her. "I'm going to have to press this on before I give you something for the pain. It will hurt, but I have to do this." She informed the teen professionally, doing her best to not let her emotions get the better of her.

Adrien's eyes had become wet with tears, and the initial numbness of an injury had clearly died down. He made a noise somewhere between a whine and an affirmative which let her swallow down any guilt for the pain applying it was going to cause. She noticed how Adrien's breathing was still laboured and quick, but slowly improving from the earlier state it was in.

Now was when she uncapped the needle and delivered the morphine dose before going any further. It wasn’t enough. Criminals could only get you so much, but it would do. Once that was handled, they had the hardest job of trying to stop the bleeding. "Claude, flip him over. We need to seal the exit wound as well. It will be worse then the entrance." Nathalie explained specifically, wiping the blood from her hands hurriedly to start rooting through the pile for the second packet she needed. 

"There isn't one." Hands freezing, she turned her head to the detective. "What?" She echoed. "There isn't one. An exit wound." He explained again. Not good. Not good at all. Why couldn't it have just been a flesh wound? She can't do anything else for him if he had internal bleeding. God forbid the bullet had hit a bone and fragmented into small pieces. Then they'd be deadly projectiles that could've punctured anything from an artery to the heart.

"Where's the bloody ambulance?!?" She demanded worriedly. "Five minutes." Gabriel answered for her. At some point during her mediocre medical care, he'd kneeled down in the blood to comfort Adrien who'd started sobbing into his father's pant leg. Was it red from blood or just the usual red? No. He wasn’t wearing his suit. He always wore his suit. Since when did he sport jeans and a sweater? They were designer, obviously, but that didn’t take away the unusualness of it.

Taking her eyes away from the youngest Agreste, she raised them to Gabriel. The way his hands were shaking unsteadily as he brushed the stray hair out of Adrien's face coupled with the fast his breathing rate had spiked told her he was starting to build up a panic attack. He had never had one of those in her experience. Maybe the borderline one he'd had upon Emilie first rendering in a coma, but a full blown one? Just how much had the man changed in four months?

At the very least, he was keeping himself together for Adrien’s sake. The teen didn't need stress on top of everything else. As she waited for the ambulance, she wondered just why he had started crying. Was if relief from finally seeing his father, or simply a mix of fear and pain? For her sake of mind, she chose the first, but any person person with two perfectly working eyes could see that they were not happy tears in the slightest. Adrien probably couldn't even register Gabriel's presence with all the blood loss. 

The waiting was excruciating. Five minutes had never been so long. Phycology said that such time warping was merely an illusion courtesy of one's memory. When a person is scared, a brain area called the amygdala becomes more active, laying down an extra set of memories that go along with those normally taken care of by other parts of the brain. In this way, frightening events are associated with richer and denser memories, and the more memory you have of an event, the longer you believe it can take.

The fear does not actually speed up our rate of perception or mental processing. Instead, it allows us to remember what we do experience in even greater detail. Since our perception of time is based on the number of things we remember, experiences thus seem to unfold more slowly. People with anxiety tend to experience greater time dilation in response to the same threat stimuli as ones without it.

So if she thought this was slow? Gabriel likely thought it was even longer if he really was in the midst of a starting panic attack like she'd deduced. Then the ambulance finally arrived in a flurry of blue lights. By then Adrien had passed out, only increasing Gabriel's anxious posture.

The two EMT's that exited the van took a moment to double take just who they were treating and the woman next to him before shaking it off and assisting. One identified the wound right away and pulled off the seal to cover it with a cloth instead. By then the threat of a tension pneumothorax wouldn't matter since they were going to be hospital bound soon anyways.

Adding pressure to keep him from bleeding out took presidency. Nathalie followed them for a moment as he was put on a stretcher and rolled to the vehicle. "Uh... ma'am. You have to let go of his hand." Of course, she'd have to let go if they wanted to do anything to help him. There was another paramedic already in there. Probably sent with them because he was better experienced with treating gunshot wounds then the other two who looked like rookies. They didn't have space for a passenger, that and they would've only let family in if they had.

Backing away hesitantly, only once the ambulance was driving away did the rest of the officers finally start to move towards her. In her stupor, she didn't even notice that Jacques had stepped in front of her again. "Félix. I'd like you to actually read that file please." The detective prompted, form protective.

Huh. Had this officer suspected she'd been innocent before? An unstable kidnapper developing Lima syndrome wasn't exactly uncommon in their field. He wouldn't have jumped in to help her like he had if he didn't suspect otherwise. "Jack. Don't be ridiculous. We should get her in an interrogation room before she can hurt anyone." Victor interrupted nervously.

"It's this or you go get me my DNA report." Claude deadpanned. "Not again with the DNA, man. What do you expect to find?" Another questioned. "Evidence that might damn well clear this woman. Since I don't think you ever actually run that sample, I'll repeat. Please read the file, kid. It won't do any harm." Claude explained before smiling innocently.

"Well, unless you know there's something you want to hide in there that is." He corrected smugly. The rest of the officers, hearing his silent accusation from the final addition, backed away in agreement. Nathalie narrowed her eyes pointedly at the good doctor, who was the last to back away, yet still willing.

An anti-villain maybe? One that knows they're the bad guy and not getting an easy way out or humanitarian awards. One willing to be caught though? It didn't sit right for him to just... give in like that. After keeping up such good PR, why allow it to be struck down like that? 

"Everyone who isn't a cop or family, clear out. Simons? Get the kid in a witness room with his mother and let him read through it. Then as him to report back. Do you have any more like those?" Claude questioned, gesturing to the bag she'd brought. She nodded and pulled out the suitcase.

"Several. Tapes as well." She hummed, handing it over to him. She was sure of it now. She could trust this one. He was competent. More then the rest of them. "I don't care if I'm currently helping you all in a sole Detective capacity. As the superior officer currently checked in, everyone will meet in the conference room and wait for the kid to come back and tell us. Am I understood?" He snapped, the others gratifying it with yes sirs.

Oh. Clearly not just the average detective then. Someone quite high up that had agreed to act as one in a professional standpoint while they were short of hand. Preferring to call himself as such meant he was humble. Humble meant he was a good person.

"When that's finished and we're told what those contents were, we'll be going through the rest of these one by one. All night if we bloody have to. While we're doing that, I want you to actually send those DNA samples in for a cross reference. Rush it. I expect it to come back either positive or negative by time we've finalised everything, Victor. Any objections?" He offered warningly, eyes daring someone to interrupt.

Nothing

"Good. Brodeur and Couture, I want you two to take Miss Sancoeur and Mister Agreste to the hospital." He ordered hastily. That one got a complaint. "But boss. She'd a suspect. A fugitive! We can't just let her roam a hospital!" Brodeur blanched. Fair enough. The man was one for procedure.

"Everyone charged with a criminal offence shall be presumed innocent until proved guilty according to law. Since the entire damn world prosecuted her the moment it happened and you all twisted what evidence we did find to fit your theories even as I called it out, just cuff her out of formality. I can't say they'll stay on by the end of the day. If anything, they might even come off before Adrien is even post op. Get her checked out by a doctor as well. They've been gone four months. We can't assume picture perfect health." Jack suggested. 

Nathalie shifted uncomfortably at the idea of being restrained, but held her wrists behind her back anyways. "Whatever it takes. Just... please... get me there quickly." She requested, her voice cracking in the middle despite how she tried to reign herself.

Gabriel also looked like he was close to breaking down, but he could probably last until he was at whatever hospital Adrien was being taken to. The metal clasping around her wrists brought her back for a moment before she blinked the memories away. "Let's go." Couture prompted. She didn’t fight back as she was lead toward the squad car. At least until she stopped halfway to say something else.

“Detective Claude, was it?” She worked out, keeping her eyes to her once again blood soaked clothes. “Yes, Miss Sancoeur?” He replied, tilting his head curiously. “Thank you. I needed that. You’re a great detective. Nay... a good _man_. You know that?” She clicked gratefully.

Jacques smiled, though it seemed slightly strained with emotion. “A good man?” He grinned. Pushing her glasses up with her shoulder, she hummed again. “A good man does not seek applause or place like a great one does. He seeks for truth, the road to happiness and what he earns, he gives back to others. Many men are great, Detective, but very few are both.”

Letting herself just stand there for just a moment, she nodded and let the officer bend her head down so she could get in the backseat safely. It almost looked like she was criminal. Technically that was what she was, but if all went well, it wouldn’t stay like that for long.

When the cruiser set off and officers filed back in, one being hauled from the roof and put in his own handcuffs for shooting the boy, his father was left staring at the still bloody pavement. “Gabriel.” Amelie prompted, placing a hand on his shoulder and holding out the pill bottle.

For the first time, he reached out without hesitation and took one. Hands shaking harder then they had before now the only reason he’d kept himself together was now driven away. “Your bodyguard will drive you to the hospital while I stay with Félix. I’ll try and get there as soon as I can. Doctor Martin is on call in the car already. Talk to her. You need her now more than ever.” She muttered reassuringly. ”And for the love of god, allow yourself to break for once, man. The world can go without cold steely Gabriel for a few hours.” She added

And so the world did...


	32. Hospital Waiting Rooms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gabriel is anxious, definitely not okay, has a one sided conversation with Nathalie that he didn’t have the will to contribute in and definitely isn’t okay again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the day just ends -Aaron Hotchner (Criminal Minds Season 4 Episode 26) 
> 
> A quote my class actually studied and for good reason -GG_Ladybug

The entire car ride was in silence on his part. Doctor Martin must of realised he'd gone into some form of shock and settled with talking to him in a sort of one sided conversation. It worked to calm him down enough not to be on the edges of hyperventilating.

Gabriel barely noted that he was the first to arrive at the hospital. He did however see the fresh droplets of blood trailing to the ER doors that could have only come from a recent arrival. He tried his best to ignore just who that person was even as he found a seat in the family surgical waiting room.

People around him were talking and looking in his direction. He even caught a few of the more dauntless ones snapping pictures. He wasn't exactly surprised by it. The public would be the public. Gossip rags and tabloids were a thing he’d become well acquainted to in the past. You could only go so long as an intern working for Audrey before someone interviewed you.

Gabriel Agreste, world famous fashionista, was calm to the bone no matter how dire the situation. Kidnapped by an akuma? He'd be miffed his schedule was interrupted and nothing more. Fair enough, they weren’t aware that they were his own akumas, but they didn’t have to know that.

It was no secret this pattern wasn’t being followed as of late. Anyone that tried to suggest otherwise was a blatant liar. The public had seen him out more times then in the last few years from his personal volunteering in search parties. He'd never looked so unkempt before in his entire life. Not even Audrey commented on it though.

His hair was frightfully void of any jell or hairspray, making the well put man seem like the average civilian brushing their hair to the side on busy a morning. That analogy wasn't exactly incorrect. He really had been waking up and ignoring his appearance altogether. That is if he had even gotten any sleep the same night. The eye bags he sported constantly proved just how little he got.

Despite being the tallest man some people had ever encountered, his stature was slumped. Making it as if he was incredibly small against the world. Many would proclaim the most perplexing thing of was is his outfit. Gone was the suit and tie he always wore in an attempt to ward off paparazzi from gaining any valuable shots. It was replaced with as casual as a famous designer could have in their wardrobe.

Had you not been told he was Gabriel Agreste, one could easily mistake him for the average man waiting for the doctor to deliver news on their family. That was completely ignoring the blood all over him too. It didn't take a genius to make the connection that Adrien had been found. How alive he actually was during that is debatable.

They were making the effort not to stare, but sheer will can only go so far with the burning force of curiosity paired with it. Even if killed the cat, satisfaction would bring it back as the black cat that seemed to have dropped off the map recently would say.

Not immediately washing his hands or requesting new sets of clothes was a practical thing to do in the situation. His pacing up and down the aisle of seats was just what he did in any situation with enough room to do so. Running a hand down his face anxiously and brushing his hair back from his eyes to the point he left the still blood behind without a care did not indicate any kind of dissociative state.

He was only fooling himself at that point. Even the doctors and nurses were eyeing him cautiously. He'd even seen one call for a stretcher to be at disposal just incase he fainted mid step from the stress. Why was the car transporting Nathalie taking so long? He wanted to know why. Not just why, how and what.

Why had Adrien been so comfortable around her? Why was he so confident in giving them the file as if he'd been waiting to do it his whole life? _"Please, father. We can talk later. Just trust me right now and read it. Trust her!"_ That's what he'd said at one point during his explanation.

Why would he trust her? After everything that had happened? Was they just missing something of blaring importance? He didn't like when he was missing something. He never has. What kind of luck was it when it happened on the precise moment it actually bloody mattered?

If he wasn't actively moving around the room, his leg was bouncing nervously in a fitful attempt to occupy himself. "Mister Agreste?" A nurse asked politely, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Your bodyguard dropped off some clothes a moment ago if you'd like to change into them." She suggested softly. He shook his head vigorously, keeping his eyes on the swinging doors.

"No. I’ll wait for the Doctor." He refused bluntly, fingers tapping on his knees in beats of four. His eyes were still glued to the tiny screen on his phone as though it would give him answers he didn't already have. The woman knelt down to meet his level.

"Well... you're looking kind of pale. The department thinks it might be beneficial if we monitor you. I could even say it would be smart if we label you as Inpatient. We can put you in the same room Adrien will be assigned as his recovery ward in advance." She added, smiling comfortingly.

He rose his head up from the previous hung position he'd had it in. "Really?" He questioned in shock. They were being nice. Why was everyone always so nice as of late? Did it come with the shtick of being a distraught father? "Only if you want to. We can get that done in no time. That way, you'll be the first to know when he's out and the first to get updates." She agreed.

Something told him that they were either comprising with him so he’d finally get some rest, or they were veiling the short patient stay thinly as a way to get him in the room early from the kindness of their hearts. Falling silent, he nodded and went to take the clothes out her hands before realising he was already covered as it was.

"Don't worry. I'll go put them in the room. Just give us a moment and someone will come get you. You could use a clean up. Adrien will want to see you at your best." The nurse prompted. As he's waiting for that to happen, the familiar clink of handcuffs could be heard as Nathalie and the two officer that had escorted her came through the doors.

He wasn't faced with Adrien's impending doom. He finally allowed himself to register just who it was in front of him. Nathalie, the one who had been haunting his home for months. The one who he couldn't bare to see a possession of without mentally breaking down piece by piece.

"Sorry to intrude, sir, but we're officers with the Police National. We'd like Miss Sancoeur here to be checked up by a Doctor as soon as possible." The man whose name he'd neglected to listen to greeted, flashing his badge to the receptionist who looked just as tense and he felt. "I-Of course. Right away, officers." He answered, tapping away on his computer while asking questions.

From there, he forced himself to look away, even as the people from earlier jumped their eyes from him to her. Couldn't they just mind their business? The discomfort on his face must of been showing more then he intended since now even she was looking at him with something in her eyes he couldn't quite place.

"Sir?" He startled slightly at the actual physical address. He hadn't expected her to actually try and interact civilly after everything. He'd imagined she'd just smirk. He tried to look angry. He really did. Yet it came out just a little too much like a semblance of fear.

She shifted uncomfortably at the look on his face before glancing away. "Right. I should’ve expected as such. It's okay. I get it." She rationalised aloud, her gaze meeting the floor. "I never intended this. I would've gone out myself had I known it was Adrien they were planning to shoot. I should've seen it coming. I had enough warnings." She apologised quietly, the words bringing the area to a still silence.

"You don't get it yet, but you will. So when that happens, I want you to know I forgive you. For believing what they told you. What else would you have thought? Any sane person would blindly trots the police and what they told you about a missing child." Nathalie explained, looking up at one of the clocks.

"They won't release the official statement until tomorrow. If you're told before hand is solely up to them. That is if that detective of yours keeps up the promise of getting Félix to read the file so they can start the rest." She hummed. Just as she was about to turn away and let the police lead her to the waiting practitioner, she stopped again as if remembering an after note.

"I've been meaning to thank you, Gabriel. For all those lessons you made me take those years ago. The medicals, the bonds, the mechanical. Adrien and I wouldn't of survived as far as we had without them." She finalised gratefully. He didn't know quite what to make of that. Even as she disappeared behind closed walls he was still blinking dumbly.

"Mr Agreste. The room is ready." A nurse muttered once that was finished. Right. A shower. Walking through the corridors had been just as daunting as simply sticking to one enclosed space. People were far more open in their glances or shocked stares. Maybe a non-patient covered in copious amounts of blood wasn't as common as he first expected.

When the woman shut the door behind him, he took a moment just to stare at the pristine room and take in the smell of disinfectant attacking his nose. It was painfully white. Painfully normal. His mind drifted for a moment on all the things he could do to the room to spruce it up. No matter the type of designer you may be, you tend to pick up a thing or two for the interiors.

As he imagined different plants and lamps he could place, it was almost as if he wasn't waiting for a doctor to tell him whether or not his son had died on the table. It was almost as though it was the average day. Almost. Nothing could quite take away that weight in his chest.

Sighing, he made his way to the bathroom where his new set of clothes were hung up. Gorilla had enough sense to not pick up one of his formal suits. He didn't think he had the energy to do all the buttons and ties without crying in frustration.

Having his face meet the floor on the way there wasn't on his schedule though, but he hadn't exactly been pinpoint as of late. Cursing himself, he must of failed to tie his shoe laces properly this morning and neglected to notice when they'd come undone at some point in his frantic pacing.

It was certainly still on the table given his less then stellar track record of self help. At least until he looked down and saw them perfectly looped together. God, he must be getting bad if he was reverting to how clumsy he'd been as a teenager. He could finally understand his teacher's annoyance whenever he stumbled into class a whole ten minutes late after falling and spilling all his possessions everywhere in the courtyard.

He'd lost many things doing that. There were probably still pens and pages of designs around that school to this day from how far they'd skittered under lockers and benches. At least it hadn't happened earlier when there was a lot of people around. There wasn't anyone in here to see him trip over his own feet like a nervous school girl facing their long time crush.

At least no one physically present. His locket had fallen from his pocket during the tumble and was staring open across from his face. Emilie's portrait. Now he felt like a prat. Acting like what she used to giggle about so much. Snapping the metal shut, he noted his reflection and frowned.

Something felt off with it. Standing back up and crossing the liminal space of the doorway, he turned himself to the mirror to figure out what was different. A few seconds was all it took. He shakes his head, backing away. His throat is tightening. He's wheezing. The world around him starts to blur.

There's so much blood. He'd known it before. He'd known it. But now he'd seen it. Actually seen it. Actually seen the blood. It was on his skin, on his clothes and in his hair from where he'd brushed it back nervously. There was far too much of Adrien's blood. Adrien's blood. His son's blood.

How much what it? He knew the statistics. He'd read every Wikipedia page under the sun and opened up more medical books then an hospital resident trying to pass their exams. He'd burned every worst case scenario into his psyche just in case he was faced with it in a fickle attempt to remain somewhat in control and prepare himself.

Hemorrhagic, or hypovolemic, shock occurs when you've lost 20 percent or more of your total blood volume. Your symptoms will become more severe as the blood loss increases. Your body can't compensate for much longer on its own in a blood volume loss over 40 percent. At this stage, your heart can't properly maintain blood pressure, pumping, or circulation.

Your organs may begin to fail without adequate blood so you'll pass out and slip into a coma. Death could follow. How much was over him right now? How much was also on Nathalie? And the detective? The floor? The operation table? The-

"Master, remember deep breaths!" Nooroo broke through, sounding panicked. The fact the kwami was always still so worried about him broke his heart. Even after all he’d subjected the god to, he still cared. You’d think being a villain with powers meant to be used for good would be a deal breaker, right?

Right... rambling... he was meant to try and strip that tendency. In an internal monologue, he only succeeded in making himself worse. Waves of emotion would wave over him. The worst part is, he wasn't even sure if they were just his or someone else courtesy of the brooch. He felt like he was going to be sick at the sight of red. 

He wants to lay on the floor and just scream to his hearts content. Instead he tries desperately for air, trying to stay upright. Think calm thoughts. He can fix this. This isn't all of Adrien's blood in his system. He will be okay. He just has to calm down and reassert it. Everything will be fine.

Still, his eyes are squeezed shut, unable to look at himself or the reflection. He's like that for a while, at least until a wave of calmness was slowly eloping him. The pill he'd taken half an hour or so ago was probably kicking in right about now. He hadn't felt this relaxed in a while. It wasn't perfect, but he felt more at ease. He isn't... calm per say... he didn't know quite what to call it.

Serene? Pulled back? Maybe just medicated worked as a description? It was both a relief and slightly off putting. Realistically, he knew that this was just a placebo effect he’d created for himself. They took four to six weeks of frequent intakes to actually have effect, but he’d take anything right now. If that included fooling his subconscious like the therapist was aiming for, then why not?

Placebo effect. It was enough. That was all that really mattered. The exacts and the explanations can wait for when he had the time to address them. His head lowered and finally it feels safe to open his eyes. This time he pointedly avoided the mirror from his line of sight. If the idea of the drug pulled him out of it, he wasn't willing to place bets if it would work again now he’d acknowledged it. He just needed a shower. 

What was it that show Adrien watched said once as its end quote?

> _“Sometimes there are no words, no clever quotes to neatly sum up what's happened that day. Sometimes you do everything right, everything exactly right, and still you feel like you've failed. Did it need to end that way? Could something have been done to prevent the tragedy in the first place? Then what about the others effected? How many more times will they be able to look into the abyss of darkness and come back? How many more times before they won't ever recover the pieces of themselves that this pain takes? Like said, sometimes there are no sum ups to be said. Sometimes the day just... ends.”_

Gabriel supposed that was true. Even if that's by washing your own son's blood out from your hair. He didn’t have a way to moralise today. He just... couldn’t. Not today. God abandoned them a long time ago for summaries to make any sense.


	33. What?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nathalie has a chat with her GP, evades questions to spend time as close to Adrien as she can, has trust issues and hears a random voice in an empty room...
> 
> Hold on, repeat that last one for me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait my dear readers, but I’m afraid it was necessary for today’s psychological trick. Bono is points for those that get it ;) -GG_Ladybug

Nathalie shifted on the seat she was handcuffed to, trying to find a comfortable position that wouldn't drive her completely insane. The handcuffs themselves weren’t exactly doing any wonders for her mental state.

She didn’t exactly have a brilliant relationship with bonds attached to uncomfortable chairs these days. Especially because there was a line mirror sat right across from her that was sending her off the edge. Who needed a mirror in an initial examination room? What were you going to do? Reset your own nose?

She glanced outside in agitation to where the officers posted at her door stood guard. If anything, it had become bordering on hyper vigilance. Every five minutes she felt the urge to just make sure that it wasn’t actually locking her in. Two burly figures constantly lingering didn’t help her perceived ideology of possible threat.

Even though she'd been put in a room after the officers had asked almost immediately, even if just to separate her from the general public, she still hadn't been seen for four hours. Being without entertainment or someone to talk to was awfully boring. At least during their kidnapping she had a purpose and a job to do. Now she was just sat there. Waiting.

Nathalie had originally attempted to get some shuteye, but she found herself right back in the room with Adrien tied behind her. Those nightmares had always began that way whenever she drifted into sleep, making the task of getting some kind of rest almost impossible. At this point, she had half a mind to ask the doctors to give her something to help her sleep while she waited to be seen.

Her foot was tapping impatiently until finally, her general practitioner came in, clipboard in hand. "Miss Sancoeur." He greeted kindly as he usually did the few times she'd been sick in the past, however there was a certain edge to his voice that didn't surprise her considering the situation.

"Doctor Charpentier. I would've hoped we meet again under better circumstances." She nodded civilly. "Particularly one where you don't kidnap a child." Markus suggested coyly. Nathalie couldn't help but crack a small smile at that. "I assure you. I did no such thing. It will be on the ten o'clock news if we're lucky. Tomorrow at most." She replied, leaning back in her seat.

The doctor eyed her in confusion at the statement. She understood the sentiment. It wasn't like that would make sense to someone out the loop on the probable proceedings. "So tell me. What exactly am I going to find when I give you this check up?" He quipped, setting down in a seat of his own.

Leaning back, Nathalie shrugged. "At first glance? Absolutely nothing." She answered, watching as his interest was piqued. There's always one way to interest a doctor, and that's by giving them a good mystery. "At first glance?" He repeated in surprise.

She couldn't risk a quick look over. Then she'd be driven back to the station for interrogation or thrown in holding until her name was officially cleared without charges. She had to stay in the hospital. She could ask for updates here about Adrien and see him straight away without delay if she hung around long enough for when he was out the theatre.

At first, she'd been worried that the ambulance had taken him to another major trauma centre nearby, but if Gabriel was there, Adrien wasn’t far ahead. Knowing if he was alright was all that mattered at the moment. To her at least.

"Just say I wouldn't be surprised if there is evidence of multiple fractures dating back three months ago." It wasn't like she was lying. There would actually be viable lines on her chest xrays. She was just withholding a solid answer so they would have to look themselves and on turn extend her stay. "Any chance you'll tell us how you got those if that’s true?" Doctor Charpentier blinked.

“Not important to the conversation right now.” Nathalie deadpanned. “Nor, particularly, am I as I’m in no dire need of medical attention. Adrien however?” She added. “Still in the operating room as far as I’m aware.” He answered instantly, filing in the paper with his suspicions for the radiologists and ticking all sorts of boxes.

“Any lingering pain?” The doctor enquired before she could try probed further for information she probably wouldn’t end up getting without a fight. “Yes. Yet there is still the probability of it just being phantom. They had someone look me over everyday that month. I had none broken at the time unless a fractured one gave out at the beginning of the second stage.” She informed.

The sound of writing came to an abrupt halt in the pain rating section. “Sorry, you’ve lost me now. They? Stage two?” Markus backtracked. Looking away from the door, she glossed over to his confused face. “Ah. Ignore me. Just a thing... a thing inside my head. Nothing to worry about.” Nathalie dismissed casually, for more nonplussed then she really felt.

“Right...” He gave in hesitantly, writing something else on the paper. Frowning, she pushed up her glasses to be sure she wasn’t reading it wrong. “Trust issues preventing you from leaning the causation of the specified injury? Why did you put that? I don’t have trust issues.” She blanched.

“You just read my writing upside down.” He commented, eyebrows raised expectantly. Going to protest, she stopped halfway, seeing the dramatic irony and closing her mouth for a moment. “You raise... a good argument.” She conceded begrudgingly.

“I’m going to give this to one of the nurses and we’ll get you down for a quick x-ray. You’ll have to wait a few hours though. Radiology is rather booked up at the moment with urgent cases.” Charpentier clapped, ripping off the page and folding it over. Brilliant. Extra time. Not so good that she’ll have to suffer for a few more hours in her own mind, but the greater good and all that.

When the door shut behind him, she listened out probably far long then necessary just to make sure she heard no click of a door lock. Then, heaving a sigh, she sunk back down into the seat and continued glaring at the ceiling. At least now she was sure she would’ve be bothered. Having the risk of someone badgering in unexpectedly wasn’t fun.

“Hey, kid. I’m Plagg. Know if they’ve got any Camembert in this joint?” A voice called out a small zip sounding from her pocket once she finally settled in that caused her to jump back up and hurt her wrist from the sheer force she startled at.

Wait

Hold on

Sorry

That’s a kwami

That is so clearly a kwami

A cat kwami

That just came out her pocket

**_ Fucking what? _ **


	34. A God And His Cheese

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nathalie... really should be reacting more to this but isn’t

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long for this one! My school work really decided to up to one thousand, but I’ve finally got it done after a bit more research for some future chapters -GG_Ladybug

Emotional numbness is something most people will experience at some point in their life. Quite often, the feeling is temporary. However, for some, feeling emotionally numb becomes a way of life to protect from further emotional or physical pain.

Emotions are a critical part of how we function in life. In fact, one study1 found that people reported experiencing at least one emotion 90% of the time, with positive emotions being reported over 2.5 times more frequently than negative emotions. 

Not only do emotions provide automatic feedback that can help keep you safe, but they can also motivate you to take action and empower you to make decisions. Yet when you’re overwhelmed or feeling helpless, it's not uncommon to turn to emotional numbing since it provides you with a protective defence. While this may provide temporary relief, learning to cope with difficult feelings this way can have long lasting consequences. 

Perhaps this explained her scenario

Nathalie was a rational woman. A well known publicised fact. The press and business partners alike knew her to be cool headed and calm. Whenever she was seen, she was the perfect example of being organised. So imagine her surpise when unbeknownst to the world, Nathalie's mind was in the very definition of spinning turmoil.

No. Absolutely not. There is absolutely no physically possible way. She couldn't get involved in this any further than she already was. Gabriel was Hawkmoth. She was Mayura. They were trying to get teenagers magical jewellery to revive his comatose wife. That was supposed to be it. That was meant to be as far as any personal connection to the miraculous went.

"The food shop downstairs." She answered evenly to the kwamis previous question, voice far calmer then she was feeling. "Sweet. Hang tight. Don't go anywhere and all that." He drawled, phasing down through the floor. Blinking at the now empty space, she patted at her pocket, removing the object that had been deposited there at some point.

Her eyes focused on the bloody silver ring, nothing else registering for a stuttering moment. She'd given this to Adrien. Back when they'd gotten out the containment, leaving Isabelle behind. He'd been so happy to have been reacquainted with it. Oh god, she had literally described it as reuniting with an old friend then, hadn't she? 

Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth. She knew this fact like the back of her hand. Adrien Agreste was... Chat Noir? He was Chat Noir. Gabriel Agreste, his father, was Hawkmoth and is currently hunting for Chat Noir's Miraculous. Chat Noir who is Adrien Agreste, his son. She would kill for a play book right about now on what she was meant to do in this situation.

Where was Luke Skywalker when he was needed?

Does she tell him? In any normal situation she was sure she would have. Then again, who's him? Does she tell Adrien about his Father or Gabriel about his son? What would either of them do if they found out? Would they battle it out in epic proportions? Would they switch sides? Would they give up? Why did her existence have to be so difficult was the true question?

Alright life, it was a good run while it lasted. She's more than happy to head out at any moment. Just show her the door and her remaining brain cells that hadn't been knocked out in the first stage will happily leave the building. She let herself release a small noise. It was something of a mix between a groan and a disbelieved whine.

Why? Just why? What god did she piss off as of late? Between telling those two the truth and sticking knives into her eyes, she's pick the knives every time. Months ago, she probably would've told Gabriel in a heartbeat. Maybe a moment of hesitation or two, but relatively quickly. Now? She was attached to the little protection squad pact she'd accidentally created in their capture. Wasn’t that just trauma bonding?

Oh it totally was

Wiping the blood from the ring, she clutched it tight and ran a hand down her face tiredly. There was something clear, there was nothing left of her old life to spare. She'd somehow become deeper than ever in this all. She had to refrain herself from screaming in annoyance at the circumstances when the kwami returned, saying once and for all that it wasn't just some one time hallucination she'd created.

"You still in there kid, or do I have to cataclysm you back into awareness?" He questioned, chewing on a wheel of Camembert casually. "Did you really just steal cheese from a shop that gives its earnings to charity?" She questioned after a moment, eyebrow raised. Clearly it had been the right thing to say instead of going into merciless panic since the kwami grinned wildly.

"Oh yeah, you really are my kind of kitten. Not a shouter. More of a talker. You'll make a fine part time Chat. Even if you have Dusuu's magic all over you." For fuck's sake... why did life chose to screw her over some much it's to the point that it was doing barrel rolls? She was just... done. Why fight it? At this point, was she commentating it for her own benefit, or out of isolated habit?

"They make pretty good cheese danishes across the street, just so you know." She added halfheartedly, leaning back into the uncomfortable seat. Had her brain stopped functioning properly? Most definitely. The kwami had literally admitted to knowing she was Mayura not even a moment ago. He could sense energy of the peacock. Does this mean every kwami could? Or was it just because a broken miraculous worked differently?

"Nah, nothing beats the Dupain-Cheng's. Find me one thing that can top them, and I'll think about giving Hawkmoth a fighting chance by taking too long to recharge." He snorted in disbelief. This was casual. Why was this casual? She should not be casual. She should be on the roof right about now. Not discussing cheese pastries with a godly creature you've been hunting for years.

"I'll hold you to that wager. Now, if I may interrupt, how exactly did you end up in my possession? More specifically, why would you be given to me?" She agreed, shifting her position. "Insurance. Operation Z. Back up. Fail safe. What you want to call it is up to you, but he knows you can and will protect Paris for him if worst came to worst. Yada yada he trusts you, blah blah blah. All that mushy stuff he’d probably say if he was here. You get the gist, don’t you, kid?" The small cat shrugged dismissively, swallowing a piece whole.

Damn Adrien. He knew well she couldn’t say no to him. Especially now. "Right. I'm his contingency plan." She agreed, falling silent for a few nesting moments. It was the kwami that finally broke the strange awkwardness. “So. While we have time, you have a good explanation for _your_ whole shindig? With the feathers and butterflies.” He interrupted. Right. Not like she was going to escape his wrath for being Mayura.

“Mrs Agreste.” She replied simply. The kwami made a sound of understanding, finishing the wheel of cheese off. “Dead?” He probed. She shook her head in negative. “Comatose state to the point of a full life support system.” Nathalie corrected simply. “Ah. Makes sense. Miraculous use? Basement?” He realised.

“Yes. On both accounts.” Why was this sounding even more outlandish now she was actually saying it out loud? “Right. My earlier intended point, you’re both idiots.” Plagg drew out sarcastically. He’s not even wrong. It did sound rather stupid in such terms. “Couldn’t you have asked for _help_? Anything _other_ then terrorise an entire city?” He huffed.

“You don’t think we tried doing all that before this?” She snapped, hand tightening on the seat handle. “I’ll give you one instance. June 2014. Gabriel released a piece globally into his jewellery line in hopes of contacting the guardian wherever he may be. Can you remind me just what that was and the symbol we marketed it with?” She deadpanned.

The kwami thought for a moment groaning at his discrepancy. “The fox miraculous.” He soon realised. Smiling sarcastically, she looked away from the miniature god. “The guardian had plenty of time to contact Gabriel. If only to ask how he knew of such things. We would’ve explained the situation and endeavoured for more savoury means of waking her. He did not. So we took matters into our own hands. The necklace wasn’t obvious. It was a side piece that we buried with news of the summer line a month after. No one made the connection when Rena Rouge appeared. Animal inspired fashion isn’t exactly new. Luckily, people just use it for cosplay and merchandise, so we remarketed it as such.” She rationalised.

“You two do anything else?” Plagg whistled, clearly impressed with the countermeasures they’d taken. “Believe me, becoming a bastardisation of a miraculous holder was the last of his possibilities. He’d hoped never to even used the Peacock miraculous given it’s condition at the time. At first, it had just been on the table as a way to draw out the man. Become a vigilante or something along those lines. Something that would grab the spotlight. When we realised the guardian was more of a coward then originally thought, we had to take more... drastic steps to achieve the required victory. Nothing makes a man’s mentor complex show then a good old fashion supervillain duo.” Nathalie sighed.

“Got it. One last question. Do you love my kid?” He asked more seriously then he had been before. “Like my own son. He’s been a ward of mine longer then I have been a child myself.” She nodded back sincerely. Plagg eyed her critically for several passing moments, scrutinising glare never leaving her face as he search for any inkling of a lie.

It was strange, having someone inspect her so, but she didn’t let any form of discomfort show as he did so, less he get the wrong idea from it.“Well then. That’s good enough for me.” He settled on, relaxing his search. “I wouldn’t say the same for Sugar Cube though. She’s going to need a lot more convincing.” The cat remarked. She wasn’t going to question that. She could only assume ‘Sugar Cube’ was another kwami. Maybe the Ladybug one if she was to guess.

“Can you...” She began before trailing off. The kwami’s mood shifted almost entirely. “Feel the kid’s aura like I did with you? No. You have to be in possession of the ring for that.” Damn. She’d hoped to get an update. “Though I got a read just before he put the ring in your pocket a while back.” She startled from her thoughts to listen entirely this time, letting herself blank specifically so she wouldn’t be distracted in any way.

“It... it wasn’t looking good.”

Shit. She could now safely say she didn't like hospitals. Hospitals were as much a place of death as they were places of healing. People went to hospital to get stitches, reset broken bones, get rid of pain if or, put simply, to die. She shook her head violently to dispel duck thoughts.

She couldn’t think of Adrien’s confused expression or dim green eyes as he cried into his father’s trousers, totally unaware to everything besides the pain without breaking down. She could think about that later when he had been fixed up and was still alive. When she’d been cleared. When she had done her job of protecting him and done it well because he couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t. She flat out refused such an outcome.

She’d pump his heart herself with her bare hands if the world so forced her to. Gabriel had already lost his wife. She couldn’t let him lose the last of his family too. Who would he chose if given that conundrum should he get the miraculous tomorrow? Would he revive Emilie or his son? Would he try both? How would either of them react to the news they’d been chosen over the other?

Everything was a potential threatening situation these days. Though, realistically, if a god thought an injury wasn’t going well for the recipient... were there really any odds here in their favour? Who was she questioning here? There wasn’t.

And she hated that...


	35. Altruism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gabriel can’t do grief, roasts himself on his altruistic nature and isn’t ready for anything

When Gabriel woke up, it was with a start. The last thing he remembered was being terrorised with images of the time previously in the day. Each nightmare was preceded by a promise that it was genuine. He could never fully seem to convince himself that what he was seeing wasn’t authentic.

It looked real. It felt real. Half of it was real. His son really had been shot. He had been bleeding on that pavement. He just wasn't dead. He was alive. He was being worked on by doctors. He was fine. The crueler part of him just couldn't help reminding himself that it was only for now. That he might not be fine in a few minutes or a few hours.

All of that made waking up terrifying. He'd devoted his entire life to giving his family everything they could ever want. Just so Adrien wouldn't possibly have a childhood like his, yet he'd still ended up screwing it all to hell. What kind of father allows all this to happen? He should of protected him. Brought him into the station before the sniper could even get it’s sight on him. Anything else except listen. It was the one time he truly regretted trusting his son.

The polar opposite of his cruel side, the rational one, knew that he had no part in the events that had unfolded. Yet emotion over took intelligence. Sitting up, he moved off from the couch across the room from the empty recovery bed and began folding away the covers he'd been given.

The orderlies would probably be more than happy to do it for him if he just asked, but he needed the distraction. Doing medial tasks such as clearing up his own space would have to do until he could bring himself to look at his cell. If he did that, he'd see the texts and phone calls he was getting. If he saw those, then the situation would be far realer.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to prepare himself for the moment that the doctors would come in with either good or bad news. If they came in straight after with his son ready to recover, or lead him to an operation room to say goodbye before he was moved to the morgue rested in the hospitals hands now. He had no control over this.

A nurse had dropped off some coffee a few minutes after they realised he had finally roused from whatever stress nap he’d been in. She'd also tried to barter him into eating something, but he wasn't sure if he could even stomach breakfast at the moment. With blood still freshly imprinted in his mind and worry pooling in the bottom of his heart, he just couldn't digest anything.

He wasn't sure how long it took after finishing the beverage for him to squeeze the paper cup a little too hard in his stupor. The action just taunted him that even in his moment of anger, he still hadn't achieved anything that would help Adrien.

He looked back at his wrist watch. Hours. It had still been hours since he'd been taken in. Surgery never lasted this long unless it was bad, right? Or was it short being the worst? Short meant they couldn’t and wasn’t doing much. He only had the comfort that they was doing everything in their power.

His thoughts were interrupted by a doctor who came in silently, taking a seat across from him. He'd instantly jumped to try and profile the man. To search his body language for any hint to what he was about to break. He would've preferred if he could tell what was coming. Good news or bad news. Yet, for some god awful reason, this doctor had clearly mastered an infuriatingly perfect blank face.

"Sorry for the wait. It's not over yet, but we thought it's best we give an update. You specifically asked we be as up front with you as we can, so I'll try my best. The bullet entered the right side of his chest, causing a collapsed lung. If that wasn't bad enough, the bullet hit a rib before it could exit. Think of it like a grenade. The blast isn't necessarily the bad thing that kills you. It's the casing made to pellet off and shoot out indiscriminately. The fragments of bone and metal spread erratically. There would've been no way to control the damage at the scene. So an extensive surgery had to be done to repair the damage." He explained, hands clasped together.

Gabriel felt the colour drain from his face. It was a small mercy he had already been sitting down. That didn't sound good. "Some pieces hit his heart and major arteries. Our biggest fear right now is that one got into his blood stream. Adrien is still in surgery as we speak. He's very weak. Ideally, we'd usually wait until he's stronger before we follow through with the rest of the surgery, but that's not going to happen. He doesn't have the sort of time. We'll update you as soon as we can, but for now we have to trust the surgeons."

Gabriel nodded, hands gripping his trousers tightly with his eyes downcast. His mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to comprehend what he was being told. "He.. he has friends. He's only 15 and has no mother. He'll want more people here for him then just me. They should know what's happened." The tone that came out certainly wasn't his normal voice. It was more emotional.

"Any family or friends are more then welcome to come by. We only allow two at a time visitation, but since it's a private room, we can definitely make some exceptions." The doctor agreed. The way he said it sounded like it was less for Adrien sake, and more as moral support for Gabriel himself. He cleared his throat in an attempt to reign himself back in, picking up the phone beside the bed.

Using a rotary one like this was better then his mobile. At least this way he wouldn't have to see anyone that had already contacted him. He wasn't sure how he'd act if he saw a worried message from his therapist. The doctor slipped out to let him make the calls in private.

Remembering numbers from heart had been a painstaking process. He'd seen them enough in passing months as they asked for any updates, but never remembered to save them in his contacts. Nathalie had always been the one to do that on her tablet. Nathalie. He really shouldn't of thought of that right now.

He'd wrote them all down eventually and began inputting the numbers. Amelie and Félix would get there when they were done at the police station, so he just had the awkward phone calls to make with teenagers who'd be far more vocal with their worry then they would. The family of the girl with pigtails had been the most controlled out of all of them, just asking calmly for his status and giving an ETA. The DJ boy went into a damn near panic attack after being told his quote on quote 'best bro' had been shot in some sort of crossfire.

Gabriel wasn’t even sure it could be called crossfire. What kind of sniper missed by one hundred yards unless on purpose? What sniper at all would purposely hit the victim? Certainly not a morally sound one.

Alone with his thoughts, he inevitably had to go get something else to drink that would keep him awake. His tolerance to coffee had been shot to hell when he first started his company. One cup would do nothing. He'd been coming back from the hospital cafeteria with an energy drink in hand when a ward door opened to his right rather abruptly.

His eyes widened in surprise at the appearance of the young boy before him. The kid was sobbing about something, wiping his face roughly with the arm of his jumper. It hit Gabriel at the irony for a moment. Here he was, incapable of accepting his own son's possible demise at forty, while a seven year old somehow already understood bad situations.

He knelt down, placing the can on the floor, and tapped the crying boy on the shoulder. When he finally looked up, Gabriel raised a concerned eyebrow and looked into the ward he'd just burst out from for a parent looking to see where their child had gone. "Are you quite alright?" He asked questionably, he didn't get an answer, just the wind knocked out of him when he was practically tackled in a hug.

Saying it had been a while since a child sobbed on his shoulder was an understatement. The last time he could recall such a thing was when Adrien was five and had thought there was a monster under his bed. Gabriel was far too out of practice for such a thing, so he scraped together what experience he had and shushed the child, look almost desperately for the boy’s parents to save him.

The understanding silence, seemed to be the only thing that the kid needed. The sobbing youngster had calmed down enough now to raise his head and watch his own movements. He clearly wanted to ask him something. He’d learnt that much long ago.

"You look sad. Is your mommy also gone?" He questioned sadly. Okay. He didn't sign up for this. What god gave him this responsibility and why? He could barely handle his own son's condition at the moment. When was putting him with this ever a good idea?

"Not my mother no. I'm fine though. I'm just waiting for my son to come home. He’s been gone a while." He assured in the strongest voice he could muster. With that, he nestled his head back on Gabriel's shoulder. The silence had stretched on for what felt like hours now, the child having fallen asleep along the way.

Finally, he could see a man stumbling through the hallways in the adjacent ward through the glass, looking around desperately for someone. Standing up. he opened the doors, waving the father over. "G-Gabriel Agreste? I-I'm sorry if he bothered you. It's just-" He stuttered nervously upon seeing just who had picked up his son, taking the boy into his own arms.

"It's fine. I understand. You wife, is she..." The man's look is all he had to see before knowing the answer to that. Rooting through his pockets, he pulled out the thing he was looking for and grabbed a nearby pen from the receptionist desk. The father frowned in confusion as he wrote a few things down, finishing it with a swish of a signature.

Ripping the paper off, he held it out to the man. "For the funeral expenses." He offered before turning on his heel. It took the man a good few seconds to register what it was. "A-Ah! I can't take this, sir! It's way too much anyways!" The man almost yelled in protested, eyes wide as he held the cheque out. Gabriel gave a non noncommittal shrug. “Perhaps you can put the rest in a trust fund.”

"B-But this is... there's too many zeroes!" He blinked back in confusion. "You knew who I was just by looking at me. I'm famous. I have plenty of money to spare. I understand what it's like. So I'm paying forward. Literally. Take care of your son now. Really." Gabriel assured, exiting before he could make any further countermeasure to the gift.

Picking up the drink he'd left on the ground, he made the journey back to the recovery wing. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd done all that. He just... had. Was this his own elaborate way of grieving? Generosity and altruism in some feeble attempt to quell feelings of regret and guilt about his own son's condition?

He'd...

Well...

Okay that may have been pretty on the nail

Then, a good four hours later, a doctor stepped into the recovery room again. He was clearly the surgeon by the way he was flexing his hands tiredly as though they’d been cramping from strenuous activity. At least he didn't have any blood. Gabriel would most certainly lose it if he had even a speck still on him.

He had expected the same impassive look the previous man wore. Only this time it wasn't there. What he saw made his world skid to a halt and sent him on the edge of panic. All of a sudden, he felt like the room was closing in on him. That man was far too defeated for his liking.

"Mister Agreste. Sorry for taking so long." He apologised, striding across the room to sit on the couch. Why did they all say sorry for the wait? Gabriel wanted nothing more than to hit the man, even just to get the answer out already.

"Your son coded six times on the table while we were in. We managed to get him back every time. Your boy is one hell of a fighter. The surgery was an overall success and he'll pull through from that with minimal scaring. However with all the time he spent clinically dead... there could be some effects. We'll bring him to the recovery room shortly. It's a game of waiting now to see if he'll slip into a coma or not-" Gabriel can't register the rest from there. He'd fully opted out. Coma. Just like Emilie...

He’d failed again

_**And** _

_now_

_**he** _

_can't_

_**breathe...** _


	36. My Cousin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which while some are finished counting down the days, others are counting down the time in surgery, one has been counting inaccuracies since day one

Félix's reputation tended to proceed him at the best of times. Both in good terms and under stable bad times. The most common one that got under his skin the most was the popular misconceptions saying he was an spiteful narcissist all the time.

He could admit his flaws. He did act like that. Even in front of the super heroines. Granted, he'd just freshly come in from England without research and been none the wiser to just how dangerous Hawkmoth was, but he'd still tried to earn personal gain from an otherwise obviously bad situation.

However, it was quite the contrary on other instances. Was it too much of a crime to prefer keeping to oneself? The odd harshness and scheme could appear here or there if he got too emotional and felt the need to take it on someone, but he was relatively sound as long as they were sound back.

When his mother had warned that something had come up in France, he intended to keep his head down while she sorted out whatever movie related thing had popped up. Problems at studios happened frequently, and if they were away from their home in London, he would be dragged along as well.

It was only after they'd settled down at the Agreste manor was he told why he was actually there. To say he'd been off in assuming it was to do with his mother's career was an understatement. Learning his cousin had been kidnapped wasn't precisely a fun experience. He couldn't keep his head down in any matter when one of his own was in peril.

Adrien sometimes made him desire the nearest route to jump off a bridge into the Seine. He was far too much of a pushover. His lack of backbone or common sense had aggravated him to no end in the past. His father could illicit the same reaction for the complete polar opposite reason to his darling son. He had far too much will and distrust for the world to handle. If he wasn't careful, it easily turned into hubris.

They could both be major roadblocks to plans that would frustrate him to Pluto and back, sure. Even with this in light, he'd never wish such a fate upon them. Both Adrien for his current situation and Gabriel for the emotional turmoil of being a father dealing with it. No matter how agitating they got, they were still his family. Family of which he had very few left.

After being told, he had gone utterly silent for a few minutes. Staring at the wall in front of the table with his hands steepled. When he finally found it in him to break the silence, he'd asked who and why. He'd run it all through his head. All the possible scenarios and statistics that would come with them too.

He'd even weighed in the low probability that his Aunt Emilie had rose from wherever she'd disappeared to and took Adrien with her. It was slim, but he'd added it to his list just in case. Family abductions were often the most frequent. All of those unlikely possibilities, and yet, he still somehow missed the very one he'd been given.

Nathalie? Seriously? _Nathalie_? Nathalie as in the woman who'd warded Adrien like her own for 15 years? Nathalie as in the person who'd helped them fool their parents about who they were when they were younger, pretending she wasn't actually the one that had helped Adrien style his hair like his own whenever he had difficulties? Nathalie as in the one that would sooner lay down her life then let anyone in the family she worked for be hurt? Were they talking about the same person anymore?

Félix hadn't even been in contact with them since his father died, and yet she had jumped in front of him when three akumas had been hunting him down for the video message he'd sent. She'd fought them to the very moment she'd been paused by Lady WiFi. If she'd been that protective over him, the weak link of the Agreste family, why would she ever commit such an act on one of the strongest?

The woman was equally as cold and calculating as her boss. Brave and smart when she chose to be, and not even in an arrogant way. It was the perfect amount of introvert and badass that didn't clash too hard. That mix meant she didn't stick out. Adrien had Gorilla as a permanent bodyguard. People often blanket believed that this extended to his uncle too. They'd be wrong. Nathalie was just as much as an entourage as she was a receptionist.

The side effect of all this was Nathalie being comically easy to read as long as you tried. If she had been planning some sort of big abduction because of a psychotic break or outside pressure, she would've reflected so in her work. He'd be damned if he lets that discrepancy pass him by.

He’d brought that up, but quickly been shut down many times by the adults with all sorts of patronising excuses. He never called them answers. ‘Some people just do things that don’t make sense’ wasn’t an acceptable response to honest to god questions. He wasn’t a five year old asking why people murder each other. He was raising a debate to a criminal investigation.

Nathalie was about the only person he could confidently say didn't do this out of all the citizens in France. Gabriel would probably be further up on the list then Nathalie, if she was included at all. The question was, where was she? If he was to run with the idea she could never do such a thing, why did she disappear along with his cousin then?

Was she running from whoever had taken him? Had she been taken along side the boy? Had she been killed and buried somewhere as a social and forensic countermeasure? He didn't quite know yet. He didn't have all the evidence. Not yet at least. So he wouldn't jump to conclusions like the rest of them had. Doing that would do nothing but hurt people.

In the beginning, he often slipped these into conversations at the police station, but they’d brush them off with relative ease or laugh him off as some desperate conspiring kid trying to justify a family friend’s actions. So by the end, he just listened, leant a hand here and there where necessary, kept his uncle on his feet and the likes. 

He did everything he could to make his own connections to the case as it grew. As the evidence mounted, so did the inaccuracies people were bending to fit their own stories. Evidence meant nothing if you had a bias with them. They didn't need a-class detectives or a new round of consultants. They needed a middle ground. A fresh set of civilian eyes.

Until they got this, he would blame no one. It did more harm then good. Innocent until proven guilty after all. Why go against his own principles? If that meant emotionally siding with Nathalie for her sake, so be it. Outwardly, he'd go with the flow. A trick he'd perfected with his closed off lifestyle. He just didn't expect things to go the way they did.

This kidnapping wasn't to do with money. Nor with some crazy drama. No no. It was far more than material expectations. He supposed this story equated closer to a Shakespearean Tragedy, even if he wished it didn't. Where the true protagonist suffers a great fate at the end of the play along with the others. No matter how the events could change or twist, this fate was inevitable. An ending where nobody was truly in the right or the wrong. Everyone suffers in some way. Rather physically or emotionally.

Having your kidnapped cousin appear mid police station visit and call your name to read a file without missing a beat isn't exactly taught in school. A part of him wanted to begin reading the file as soon as it was put in his hands, but the other half decided to listen to what the officer behind him was suggesting.

Waiting for some form of backup sounded good. He just hadn't realised he meant sniperal and not medical. Now, he wished he ignored that bastard all together with a burning passion. He cursed himself for even listening. He cursed himself long before reopening the file at the request of the detective. He cursed himself for never insisting harder that there was something not right. He cursed himself solely for leading to the events of his cousin's possibly fatal shooting.

Learning he'd played right into the criminal's fiddle had been one hell of an add insult to injury. It was one of the first things he read, and he suddenly didn't trust the police as much. A mole that was so undetected after all this time when he'd been so obvious in his constant misconduct? He should've been fired long ago for putting off or compromising vital DNA tests. He'd been doing so for years.

The further he read, the worst it seemed to get. At some point, his mother had sat across from him in the interrogation room. Clearly having finished talking to the officers. He doesn't give her time to say anything. "Get them to arrest the forensics man that whispered to me earlier. It appears you've all fallen for an elaborate ruse." He gritted, the picture he was holding began crinkling under his grip.

"What's in the file dear?" She asked in confusion after a noise of bemusement. Fair enough. He'd been in equal denial. Picking it up, he spun the file round and dropped it across from her rather loudly, enunciating his frustration. Even without the words, the initial photographs were enough. Both Nathalie and Adrien tied together didn't need explaining.

"We've been _duped_ , mother. Since day one. This was their plan, and we've gone right into their trap." He growled in exasperation. That file couldn't even be the worst of it. This was just an overview collection Nathalie must of put together for the initial reading to prove her innocence. The other holding the case would have the hardest jobs of connecting the dots.

Right now, all he knew was that they'd both been kidnapped and the police had something to do with it, and that fact alone was pissing him off. "I-I'm... my god." She stammered after a few seconds of taking the information in. Félix does nothing but glare, hands clenched on the metal angrily. "Come on. We have to relay this so they can start with the rest." He deadpanned.

 _'You idiots got my cousin shot'_ was left mercifully unsaid


	37. Apologies and Ironies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gabriel and Nathalie have a conversation... for real this time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’re noticing the slowly growing gaps between updates, well done ;) Today, we are dabbling in a fine piece of psyche in which one can distort ones views of a story based on time between. Hopefully I’ve been successful and made my teacher proud -GG_Ladybug

The wait felt excruciatingly long in her mind. She knew it wasn't in real life. It couldn't have been what, more than 10 hours? She'd spent longer in transit before in flights to other sides of the world because of business. So why was this harder to sit through?

Plagg's borderline monologues was a distraction she'd welcome. It wasn't like she hadn't been subjected to them before. She'd heard more of Gabriel's then she could physically count. At least these weren’t about domination and winning one day. 

The kwami was awfully good at continuing a seemingly ended conversation. Talking with a god who is fiercely protective over the person you've attacked for years to pass the time between X-rays and consultations should be a bit harder than it actually was. Plagg was far quieter and reigned in compared with Duusu, so she didn't have to deal with the mood swings and gushing about romance. 

If anything, Plagg was almost like a carbon copy of herself. Overly reserved unless it was to those they cared about, in which shreds of affection would be shown once they deemed the person 'safe' to get attached to. When they were sure they wouldn't die any time soon or break their trust.

They know exactly when the guards were informed by their body language only. The doctor had just left from showing her the most recent round of X-rays in their search for her injuries when it happened. The door was still propped opened so her view to the outside was unobstructed.

The one sporting a walky-talky had leaned over to the other and whispered something, both breaking off in different directions as though on a mission. A minute passed and suddenly there is far more people in the hallway. They'd stopped whatever code had been called for there being a suspect in the area.

When one came to unlock her handcuffs, their eyes were low, unable to look her in the face properly. "Have they..." She trailed off slightly, the burning questioning hanging through the air. "Mr Agreste will be informed shortly, ma'am. Along with anyone that comes to visit them if they don’t already know." He answered.

How would Gabriel react?

Would he be sad?

Happy?

Angry?

Shocked?

The last one feels more painful, because in the last one, he continues to expect her to be the bad guy. In the last one, he carries on believing she's capable of such a thing. In the last one, she's miscalculated how much people think of her. In the last one, she's been lying to herself.

It almost feels anticlimactic... rushed even. Here she was. She'd won. Right? It was over. It was done. The trials were over, and she wouldn't be expected another one in the form of a legal battle. It was official. She'd been moved from suspect to victim. Now she just needed to visit... visit...

"When can I go see Adrien?" She bit out quickly. The guard shrugged noncommittally at her. "Not sure, ma'am. Hospital staff will probably want it as family only the first hour or so out the operating room." Nathalie narrows her eyes slightly at that.

"He _**is**_ my family." She corrected instantly, pushing up her glasses in a hope it looked slightly intimidating to get her seriousness across. The guard looked sympathetic, but it's more pained and pitiful. "Fair enough... I'll see what I can do for you then. Put a good word in to the nurses that you won't disturb the patients rest." The man allowed quietly.

When he leaves, her doctor returns. The GP is far more energetic now he knows she's innocent. The usual jump in his step and carefree demeanour returned full force. She wondered if that would disappear if she told him about what she'd done to Isabelle. The blood she'd gotten on her hands. Right... guilt... she'd forgotten about trying to avoid that. There's another thing to add to her growing list of psyche ailments. Just a few more things and she'd be willing to be that she had the bingo of bad things.

Somehow, she tuned out the rest of the exposition until she can finally go to the recovery rooms. She was positive that she just looked like she’d gone into shock if the way the staff was looking at her meant anything. She wouldn’t exactly be surprised if it was. She’d been through a lot, so it wasn’t exactly off the table as she was escorted through the halls.

Upon stepping into the room, she immediately wanted to step out. Machines surrounded him in a way that was eerily reminiscent to Emilie, but it was worse for him. For him, there were wires and tubes everywhere. A ventilator being necessary to allow him to breathe. 

The white of the room clashed against the blue blanket and gown. Somehow, Adrien was still paler then the walls. She didn't dare step further then she already had. Then she’d have to see details and it would get worse. Instead, she opted to observe from afar, the IV drip casting a shadow over her. 

The other reason why she felt the need to bolt was the man sat across from her, eyes wide in surprise at her arrival. Clearly he had expected more time after being told. God she hoped he’d been told. If he hadn’t, this would be a far more difficult conversation then she thought.

“Nathalie.... you’re uh... you’re looking well.” Gabriel greeted nervously, looking even closer to a breakdown then she did. She should cut him some slack. She really should. He couldn’t have arrived to any other conclusions. Not with the internal interference going on in the department telling him otherwise. She couldn’t help but make a jab though, no matter how much she repeated this in her mind.

"Fine. May I ask why you suddenly have become interested for my well-being rather than my destruction?" She questioned, a cold sharp edge to her tone that sliced through Gabriel’s timid one. Had she dropped a needle and let it hit the floor, she was sure she could have be able to hear it in the silence that followed her admittedly low blow question. 

Gabriel opened his mouth for a moment and hesitated, closing it again as though trying to recollect his words. Nathalie was patiently taping the floor with her foot as she waited for him to compose himself. It was a little mean to have said such a thing, but he really did earn it. Well, not him exactly, but everyone.

There was a little voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Adrien reminding her that this was projection. That she was lashing out against the wrong people, but she elected to ignore it. Gabriel eventually managed to clear his throat and began talking. "I... I suppose I deserved that. I’d be lying if I tried to say I didn’t.” He winced.

Did he just admit his faults? He’d been timid earlier. Right? She wasn’t hallucinating. Gabriel Agreste didn’t do timid. Or acceptance for that matter. How had he changed so in four months? Had something happened? Stupid question. He had to deal with the prospect of losing another person close to him and having the other betray him worse than a villain in a Shakespearean tragedy.

“Nathalie... I thought I’d lost you.” He murmured. She couldn’t help the way her head tilted in confusion at that sentence. “Not like I’d lost Adrien. You weren’t taken in my mind back then. You were still the taker. I thought... I thought I’d done something. That I’d finally made you snap. That I’d ruined the one good thing to happen to me since Emilie and in return, you’d taken the only other person I had left.” He elaborated.

He... blamed himself?

“I didn’t just lose the best assistant I’ve ever seen to my stupidity, I thought I’d hurt my friend to the point of breaking. You've got the patience of a saint. It’s no secret. If anyone could efficiently take that trait from you... it would be me. The fact you hadn’t killed me or just quit long ago was a miracle within itself. I’ve gone through more employees than meals in my life." He stated plainly with his arms crossed over his chest protectively, head downcast.

“I was hurt when we all thought you’d done it. Not because you were Mayura or I trusted you, but because you’re the first friend I’ve ever had and if that was a lie, then I can’t have friends at all. That I just... I just wasn’t allowed them. I thought I was cursed to corrupt everything in a ten foot radius. I suppose you could say I’d convinced myself I had a hand forced to stay on cataclysm.” He sighed self-deprecatingly.

It was then Nathalie's turn to lose her brought together composure in shock, staring almost dumbly for a hot minute. Friend? He thought he’d ruined their friendship? Her mouth curled into a playful smirk. "Think about what Adrien would do if he’d heard that. He’d be over the moon. The cold hearted Gabriel Agreste caring about people. It’s news worthy." She smiled, eyes drifting to the pale teen unconscious on the hospital bed. 

Gabriel chuckled slightly, eyes watering as he followed her gaze. “He would like that... wouldn’t he?” He agreed at a whisper before burying his face in his hands. "I’ve already lost Emilie... I can't lose him too." He finally worked out, despair audible in his voice. Nathalie stepped forward slightly, faltering halfway with her hand going to reach out for his shoulder. Hand clenching, she brought it back down. 

He’s not going to die. Not on her watch.

"I’ve had a while to think about that situation with Emilie actually. About if it’s worth it to keep going trying to get her back. Maybe it’s best to just focus on the family I still have in front of me.” Did the world come to form just to burn her with red-hot irony or was it all just a cruel coincidence? She couldn’t say yes to that idea, but she was literally wearing the cat miraculous. So at the same time, she couldn’t in good conscience say no either.

“It’s not my place to decide, sir...” She settled upon, fiddling with the silver on her finger. Gabriel managed to catch that action apparently by the way his eyes were looking down at her hand. “You’re wearing his ring.” He commented idly.

“He gave it to me just after he was...” She didn’t finish that. Words left unsaid. She should tell him. She should come out with it. Say he’s already got one half of his goal already and he can’t give up now. She should. She really should...

Adrien's words echoed in her mind from the particularly amusing day he’d assumed they were dating when his father was about to admit his less than stellar extracurricular activities against the heroes. ‘She's already part of the family.' A common theme today was should, but just because she should, doesn’t mean she would...

“I suppose I should thank you now. For... well everything. They told me that you protected Adrien from your kidnappers. Took the brunt of their hits or something. Probably more that they didn’t have the disclosure to tell me about.” He nodded, not taking his eyes off the heart monitor. "I'm happy with no praise at all, sir. It’s my job. I enjoy seeing you and Adrien safe. Your happiness is a reward within itself." She explained whole heartedly.

"For someone so unlucky, I do have one selfless partner in crime." Gabriel commented honestly from the chair beside the bed, leg bouncing anxiously. Nathalie resisted the urge to smile. She was still mad with him. "I also think it’s high time I say sorry since no one else has. I should’ve thought better from you when it happened. Contested the police more than I did. Anything else. I know it’s too late now. That saying this isn’t going to take back the suffering I’ve caused you, but I’d hope it’d be worth something. It’s probably doing me more good then you, actually, but I just want you to know that.” He apologised.

Apparently the way her shoulders hunched sadly during his speech was more visible than Nathalie intended since he came to a stop and began eyeing her in confusion. He’s profiling her. "It's nothing." She brushed off, keeping her eyes on the bandages wrapped around Adrien’s chest peeking out from the collar of the hospital gown. His gaze didn’t change, so she just spoke.

"Do you know how much it hurts knowing that the people I loved the most of all thought I’d made then pawns. That I created a master plan and hurt the boy I’ve devoted my career to protecting with my life. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate what you just said, but you have to understand that it more than hurts knowing that my reputation was so easy to manipulate in people’s minds. I hoped it’d be harder, but maybe people just don’t know me as well as I thought they did." The words are sharp, as cutting as the first jab, any civilisation or joy carved from it.

Gabriel looked at the floor guiltily, nerves struck at her words. He already knew it, but saying it made it real. He’d probably spent the better part of the last few minutes trying to deny it up until the moment she walked in. "I understand, and I promise you that it’s a mistake I will never be repeating should you give me the honour of staying around to ensure so." He admitted quietly.

"Honestly, since the start of this whole ordeal, I've had regrets about applying for this job.” Gabriel seemed to shrink slightly, as though expecting her to resign on the spot. “But I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Doing this has given my life purpose. Even if our trust has been... wavered... I understand why it has done so with stride.” He seemed to brighten at that while he listened. 

"I'm sorry that our unfounded claims robbed you of your happiness. I can see how it would’ve effected you given the situation. I take full responsibility for that." He swallowed, not meeting her eyes out of shame. She could see the pain none the less. Nathalie froze and tried to think of something to say, anything to say at all.

He was admitting everything. She expected more fight. More resistance. Maybe a blame game. Not acceptance. She didn’t prepare for this. Why in god's name was he so... zen? Therapeutic even? Did he have a therapist? Huh. That was one hell of a thought. Gabriel Agreste actually dealing with problems like a normal person. Who knew? Even as she jested, it strangely made sense.

She sighed again for what felt like the thousandth time, closing her eyes for a moment. She was still angry. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever stop being angry, but she could see eye to eye. "I don't forgive you, sir. Not yet. But you made a start, and that’s what’s important." She finalised. Gabriel nodded seriously. 

“I didn’t expect anything more.” He hummed. They lapsed into silence then, the only other sound being beeping and the whirl of the ventilation system. This... was this... this was freedom. Right? Why did it... it didn’t seem all what she’d made it up to be. What was the word she used earlier? Anticlimactic. That was it. It was anticlimactic. She should be happier about all this. She was free. She should be over the moon.

It was because she couldn’t save Adrien...

** _Wasn’t it?_ **


	38. A Short But Important One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which sometimes the funny things are the most important

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short, but important one. I’ll just leave one word for ya’ll. Then let your minds run wild with confusion and worry: 
> 
> Foreshadowing = a subtle warning or indication of a future event amongst red herrings and unrelated text -GG_Ladybug

She'd barely been in there an hour by time doctor's shifted them out the room so they could do another round of tests. She would've been more annoyed about it in any other circumstances, but it was understandable.

She didn't notice just how she was following behind Gabriel. It was almost like she used to, aside from the fact it was far more guarded due to self preservation then an employer ready to protect their boss. The group they'd approached didn't even realise it too at first.

The realisation that it was her, actually well and truly her, came shortly after they did the double take. She wasn't attacked immediately upon the revelation. Always good. They'd obviously already been informed since they were visiting like the guard ensured. They just kind of... stared in her general proximity with wide eyes. Nathalie wondered if humans could possibly go any wider then with what they were looking at her with. More expected then Gabriel's almost anxiety ridden state anyhow.

It looked like he'd invited every person in Adrien's class, of which their parents naturally tagged along with them. It explained why this was a private waiting room instead of the public one. From just how many there were, Nathalie couldn't imagine him making all those calls. Or the fact he probably knew each one of their names by now.

"Hello... I'm going to get coffee." She greeted stiffly, before moving back out the door she'd been lead through to search for the machine. "Woooow kid. Real smooth reintroduction plan you got going there for yourself, huh?" Plagg whistled from her pocket. "Lay off. It's a perfectly sound course of action. I was kidnapped. Now I'm not. A drink is the most understandable out of all the things on my list of deficiencies." She scolded quietly.

"La de dee la de dah that's all science talk. Fact over emotion. They aren't gonna see it like that. For a woman whose job is literally to handle people so her boss doesn't have to, you sure don't know the first thing about human nature do you?" He drawled teasingly.

"I know plenty about human nature. Just not the socialite effects of it. The business sector is where I thrive. Parties and galas aren't necessarily my thing unless it's for blackmail." She defended.

"Believe me, it really shows. Look at it this way, kid. Those people blamed you for months. Now they realised they were all wrong and you might of heard all they said. You just walked in after said revelation and walked back out as briskly as you came. What message does that paint?" He recited.

"That I don't forgive them?"

"Stronger then that."

"That I _hate_ them?"

"Getting warmer like hot Camembert."

"That I _blame_ them?"

"Bingo."

She rose an eyebrow in disbelief and punched in the machine for a black coffee. "And the question isn't whether or not they're stupid for thinking such a thing... it's whether or not you believe that too." Her hand hovered over the dispense button. He wasn't wrong. Damn.

"I don't blame them. I just think I had something wrong with me for placing more faith they'd trust me then I should of. They're humans. Like you said. It makes sense they'd reach the conclusion they had. It was the only one they could. My belief they'd think otherwise was foolish." She explained.

"So you blame yourself. That's worse then lashing out at people that wronged you. Both for you and for them. They'll feel even more guilty you think that now." Plagg called out. She pushed the button a little harder then necessary, which only seemed to confirm that theory.

"Behavioral self-blame is undeserved blame based on actions. Victims who experience behavioral self-blame feel that they should have done something differently, and therefore feel at fault. I know I couldn't of done anything differently. I made all the decisions I could in those four months. People were going to die no matter what I did. So inherently that diagnosis makes no sense." She protested.

"But what about the hour before you were taken?" Silence. "That's what I thought." He smirked. "Is it too much of a crime to think I should've taken a different route or not been late? To think I should've done better because of the kidnapping training?" She deadpanned, pulling the cup towards her once it was finished.

"Yep."

"For a kwami without mood swings, you're awfully annoying." Nathalie growled quietly, taking a sip of the beverage. "What can I say? I'm personable." Plagg grinned. She huffed before grimacing at the taste. "God this is awful. How do kidnappers have better coffee then hospitals?" She blinked.

"You're just rich and spoiled. They're rich too because they do some criminal stuff." The kwami answered. It was the second time today she raised an eyebrow. "Do you know how much the Camembert Adrien buys you costs or have you been blind the past years?" She questioned. "Not my fault the kid is as rich as you. I don't think he knows what the words home brand even mean." He shrugged.

"I'm not rich... not technically." She tried before trailing off. "Yeah yeah. Officially you get the average pay for an employee, but you're his assistant. That comes with the whole package deal. You live under the Agreste mansion at no extra cost and were given a debit card in the big guys name. You have unlimited access to a billionaires bank account, and in so, you're rich. Hush." Plagg snorted in amusement.

"Right, fair enough, but I still grew up and helped a man start a business while in middle class. Gabriel and I practically lived on Nescafé back then before he made his big break. I'm not that blind to budget coffee. But this... this is like cheaper then cheap." She noted, taking another sip anyways.

"Did you just put _Nescafé_ in the same sentence you claimed to be _normal_?"

"We were middle class, Plagg. Not completely broke. We were allowed pricey things. Do you think we just didn't have income before his pseudonym? We had part time jobs." She smiled. Plagg looked close to bursting out in howled laughter had it not been in the middle of a public corridor.

"Before you ask, I was a waitress and he was a barista. A good one at that. And yes. I do have pictures. I've got to bully my personal phone off the police first since that goon chucked my work one. It's probably in evidence." If Plagg looked excited at the revelation before, he looked elated now. "You wait till the kid hears about this." He grinned once the nurse passing by left.

"I'm sure Gabriel had a stroke the first time a nurse gave him coffee if this is the same he got. I only know that because he's gone on tangents at 6am whenever I make coffee in the kitchen because I quote on quote don't do it right." She agreed with a smirk. "Is that why I've seen about a million different machines to make coffee in the kitchen whenever I've phased through walls to get more cheese?" He awed.

"Oh yes. Gabriel's orders. Nothing but the best for whatever occasion or type. We stopped trying to make his in the end. Too difficult. He continues to claim it's childishly easy, and there's no reason to use a kettle, but he's pedantic. Then again, he has training, so what do you expect? You have no idea how many times I've heard about how someone messed up the 'golden ratio' at fashion galas in the past. Says he’d sooner run a sword through himself then allow anyone to drink that poison." Nathalie hummed.

"Oh I've reached the pinnacle of life."

"I’ll have to tell you about the hubris T-Shirt sooner or later."

" _The bloody **what**_ -"

“Now that’d be telling.” She cut off in amusement, purposely getting closer to a coming by nurse so the kwami couldn’t ask for more information right away. He was clearly already teeming at the idea. “The fact you weren’t chosen to be a black cat in the past astounds me. You’re far too cocky to be a peacock.” Plagg grumbled quietly.

“Hey now, I’m sure that offends Dusuu.” She note sarcastically. “Dusuu can shove off. Now please tell me about this fabled T-shirt.” He demanded. Nathalie rolled her eyes and found a seat in a quiet room. She was probably avoiding them in any way she could, but she’d ignore that for now and enjoy her drink. “Two words. Charity shop.” Plagg’s roaring with laughter at the revelation.

“GABRIEL AGRESTE IN A CHARITY SHOP?!? OH MY GOD I HAVE TO TELL TIKI THIS!” He cackled. All this conversation should just be comic relief. It should. But unfortunately, Mother Nature sometimes decides to make things serious in the future.

Because the universe decided she couldn’t have anything nice a long time ago...


	39. A Toast To Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Readers, come get ya’ll juice! The clue I wish to leave you all today is this. There’s a significance to the spacing I’m updating this story. If you can figure it out, I will be very impressed ;)
> 
> But on a different note, enjoy the event I had foreshadowed -GG_Ladybug

"You're as bad as the boy, you know that?"

"I doubt he panics outside of doors often."

"You'd be surprised."

"I can do this. It's just people I know."

"Then go in and stay this time."

Nathalie sighed in annoyance and continued to hang back on the wall across from the private family waiting room. "Shouldn't this be easy? Don't you have like the hots for him?" He blanched. "It's hardly 'the hots' since it isn't about looks, but yes, I suppose." She nodded with a roll of her eyes. 

"Wait, it's for his _personality?_ " He echoed in confusion. "I'll admit, I was surprised by it too." She smirked. It's not every day you enjoy the company of a man that shouts at teenagers in his basement once a week to resurrect his half dead wife.

She stared at the door handle for a moment longer and placed her hand on it hesitantly. "This is single handedly the worst day ever." She cursed mainly to herself. "Because you have to deal with bottled emotions and your placeholder son got shot?" Plagg droned.

"No, _because it's a bit nippy out today._ Yes because of that! Aren't you supposed to give me advice or something?" She snapped, making the kwami grin. "I'm no good at that. Can I interest you in a sarcastic comment?" He shrugged. Glaring at the small creature, she huffed. "Fine. I'll do it myself." She grimaced.

"Seriously, it's not like it's the end of the world. It's just one awkward encounter and then you'll all get back into the swing of things." Plagg groaned at yet another hesitation. "For them. Not for Gabriel. I know what he's like." She explained. "How bad can the guy be? It's not like he's holding a grudge." The kwami scoffed.

"It's not his scorn I'm worried about. Did you see how he was acting? It's like he's a teenager all over again. He’s scared he’ll break my trust for the second time." She murmured, pinching the beige of her nose. "That's a bad thing?" Plagg blinked. "Gabriel Ageste was one of the most unstable boys I knew back in high school. He'd never admit it though. He was already working hard to get a job in design despite his relatives trying to push the family business on him while juggling all his other class rep responsibilities. He'd burst out into tears if even one tiny inconvenience happened and promise he could do better next time. He only really got back into control around the time he moved out." Nathalie reminisced.

"I've had owners like that. Parents?" Plagg realised. "I never got any details, though I think Emilie did. I can image that's where most his problems stem from. The complexes and abandonment issues. Given what's gone on, he no doubt blames himself." She concurred while binning the coffee cup.

"Hey, I thought you were thirsty enough to drink that cheap crud?" Plagg squawked from her blazer pocket. "I'm desperate, but not that desperate. I'll wait for a nurse to ask. They'll go get something from the staff room instead." She explained, having to move out the way rather hurriedly when an intern stormed by with shouted curses, knocking her shoulder as he went. "Rude. What was that about?" She scoffed, brushing off the shoulder he'd bumped into along the way.

"Maybe he got fired?" Plagg shrugged. Nathalie rose an eyebrow. "Are your only possibilities negative?" She deadpanned, pushing her glasses up. "Um hello? Kwami of Chaos and Destruction? Of course those are my only possibilities." Plagg joked, earning a chuckle from the woman.

"Very funny." She murmured quietly while opening the door and stepping through. It’ll be easy. Silence. Never mind. Decidedly not easy. Everyone was staring at her again with that look in their eyes somewhere between crushing guilt and pity. "Sorry I took so long. The coffee wasn't that good." She attempted, but it fell flat. How is it she was so often lost for physical words these days while her mind decided to raged with possibilities instead. Might as well get this over with.

"I feel equally as frustrated by what's happened recently, and feel the same sense of urgency to deal with the matter. Based on the facts you all know so far, here's what I have to say until a time you've learnt more and wish to address it. I'm only realising now, based on what you shared in the voicemails I had the chance to hear, the level of confusion to my loyalties I created for you and your families by my usual distance. I owe you an apology for the lapse in communication." She began formally, and she was sure they would've protested the need for the apology had she given them the time.

"So just this once, I'll be blunt and step out of the line. I would do anything for Gabriel. I'd sacrificed my own health to do so." Ironically they didn't know the half of how true that part was. "This same protectiveness applies to Adrien as well. That boy is the closest thing to a son I have ever had, and if my current lack of interest for a romantic life goes, I'm sure I will ever have. I have always valued your judgment, and I always will." She admitted.

"In digesting what you shared, I found that your disapproval hurts me more then I anticipated. Ultimately, this is because of a difference in understanding. You all thought a theory, a valid one at that, based on what you knew. It was all you could do. I don't blame you for this. Not in the slightest. I only blame myself for not sharing enough that it was a possibility. In being private, I turned into the mysterious assistant that knows everything while no one knows her. This then impeded on an investigation that could've ended a lot sooner with a recuse mission rather then... well what happened after we made our own escape."

They were silent, and there shocked faces told her she had a little longer before anyone else recovered enough to say something. "But above all, I'm sorry I couldn't protect him. It was my job, one of the very reasons I was hired, and I failed. All the training I took went to waste. I should’ve been quicker or gone out instead." She finished, shifting where she stood.

"Dear..." That one was Sabine. She could remember that voice. Her and her daughter had been the only ones she'd heard who actively believed she might've just been forced or plain wrong place wrong time. "You have absolutely nothing to defend for. You did good." The woman smiled in that motherly way that made your eyes pick with tears.

What? She hadn't cried. Not in years. She'd panicked. Hell, she'd done her fair share of that as of late. She'd been angry. She'd been irrational. She'd been all the negative emotions under the sun, but crying? No. She couldn't recall a time she had. So why was this random woman she'd interacted with a grand total of once in her life eliciting such a response?

Looking down, she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Adrien's been through a lot. We know that..." The baker drew out, and the trail off told her she wasn't done. "But so have you. Bottling up does no good. Not for Adrien and certainly not for your health. If you ever need a shoulder to cry upon, we'll be here."

She couldn't cry. It was out of character. Impressively so. She would've laughed a year ago had anyone even suggested such a thing. No no. Absolutely not. She'd been fine all these years, she'd be fine now. "I'm perfectly composed at the moment, Miss Cheng, though I'll remember your offer in the future." She lied with the tight smile you usually give when wanting a subject to be dropped.

The elder woman smiled back with a small nod, eyes shining in a way that screamed she certainly didn't believe her. The door opened and a man popped his head though. "Pardon. My French is not good, so if I make any pronunciation mistakes, I’m sorry. I'm the transfer nurse. Anyone thirsty?" A British sounding man asked politely. Oh thank god. Perfect timing. "I am. Your French is good for someone new to France. Coffee. No sugar." Nathalie nodded. 

"The same for me." Gabriel chimed.

"Of course. Anyone else?" The man smiled. A few of the others got water or energy stimulates, but she stopped keeping track after so many people. They lapsed back into an awkward silence as they took seats, Nathalie fumbling for a minute to find one.

She didn't know most of them that well, so it would be weird to go next to them. Right? Then it's the same for the teenagers. But it was worse to be near Gabriel right now. Yet he's the only one she knew well enough to comfortably be around. What if the others took it as rude? It was all rather useless since she ended up sitting by him anyway.

Things lightened up slightly when the man came back with the tray of beverages. She didn't know if that was because everyone had more energy or if it was just a welcome distraction. He cast a glance in confusion between the two cups. "It's fine. We got the same, sir." Gabriel assured, taking the one of the right.

"Thank you." She bowed, taking a first sip and almost sighing aloud in relief when it wasn't the machine stuff again. "The weather is... _nice..._ today." Gabriel, bless his soul, was really trying. Yet trying didn't mean it wasn't failing considerably. She couldn't blame him, he hadn't exactly needed to keep up with small talk for the past few years. "It's cold, sir." She corrected in amusement.

He clicked his tongue in realisation and nodded along. "Right. _Right._ I knew that. I like the cold." No he doesn't, but she wouldn't mention that. "If you could take a vacation or sabbatical, where would you go and what would you do?" This was just sounding like he was trying to give her time off work.

"I would stay home. I like being in Paris." She answered, before realising her blunt answers were exactly the opposite he was going for. He was trying to innovate a normal conversation for the first time in forever despite the air around them. "But probably Los Angeles. See the sights. Go out." She added, humming behind her cup at the way he deflated at the invitation to talk.

"I like LA. I went once on business." He commented fondly. She smirked at the sudden thought that brought her. "Wasn't that when you got arrested and needed to be expedited for the trial?" She recalled. Gabriel flushed with a hurried nod. "I got off anyways." He rebutted.

"Because you were rich enough to pay the damages and good looking. The judge was probably going to let you go anyways with how she looked at you when you flashed a smiled at her." She corrected. Really, the PR from that had actually been rather good. The sales went up exponentially because he got in the news headlines for something that was gossip worthy. "It wasn't that bad. It would've been stupid to lock me away for it. Other celebrities have done worse." He shrugged.

"You got blackout drunk and hung from a _multi million_ dollar chandelier with a lampshade over your head, screaming the lyrics-" She couldn't finish that since he cut her off by pushing her cup up to her lips as a way to silence her. "Gabriel they can just google you, there's no need to protect the children from your stupidity." She noted.

"I pray they never get the sense to. It was the nineties. I'll lose all my parental scorning power if they find out I've done worse." He muttered lowly. She couldn't stop the small smile that brought. Fair enough. She doubted 'you're irresponsible and will have to be punished' would work if they knew even a fraction of what he'd gotten up to as a young adult.

He coughed slightly in distress beside her when he finally went to drink his own drink. "Jesus Christ. That's really bitter." He grimaced in disgust, wiping his mouth. "Why didn't you ask him to add sugar to it then?" She questioned while he pushed it on the table dismissively. "I only have sugar in coffee at certain times. It's not healthy at this hour. This just isn't good. I usually like bitter more than sweet." He explained. Rolling her eyes, she took another sip. "I think it's fine." She shrugged.

"Then your tastebuds truly have been burnt off from all the awful... awful..." His sentence falls short, his lips parting for a moment to continue before they shut again, a thoughtful confused look on his face. Head tilting, she look at his direction again from her cup. "What's wrong?" She probed. That question caught the attention of the others.

"Sorry I think... it's like everything's on fire-" Blinking harshly, he let out a pained groan, and suddenly any effort to keep himself sitting was out the window because now he's crashing to the floor. "Gabriel!" She shouted in concern. "Nino go get a doctor. Go out there and start screaming in front of reception if you have to." She ordered.

The boy in the read cap nodded hastily before sprinting out. "What's going on? Has the stress triggered something he has?" Mr Dupain suggested in cofnsion while placing his jacket under the man's head when his arms started jerking ever so slightly in a way that indicated an oncoming seizure.

"I don't know. I don't think so. He doesn't have any underlying conditions. No personal history of epilepsy. No family history either. No brain injury, no precursors, nothing." She denied. Whatever it was had made him pass out and drop into the beginning of convulsions as quickly as they’d noticed something wrong. It was almost unnatural.

"Maybe we should step outside. The doctors will need some room." Alya prompted to the elder, wringing her hands nervously in a tic that told her this was just an attempt to have her out should the man end up dying. Smart kid. "No. No I can't leave." She refused. She'd already left Adrien. She wasn't leaving her one other responsibility too.

"Okay that's fine. Uh... recount! Recount what happened right before he collapsed. He might've been showing symptoms before and you were the only one paying attention before pitching it out. We were all on our phones or talking to each other." The Ladyblogger suggested, going into what she could only assume was reporter mode.

By the way she was keen to distract her in anyway possible from her boss now shaking uncontrollably on the floor as the others dealt with it, she was probably the one to keep Adrien's class together while they were away. She believed it was called a mom friend if Adrien's describing meant anything.

"Nothing. _Nothing_ he was acting like normal. A bit anxious maybe, but he’s been like that since I first saw him. He was striking up conversation. He wasn't slurring or saying anything that suggested he was having headaches or some kind of aura. It just happened. He looked like he was exhausted or dizzy all the sudden and fell." She rushed out in frustration. “So there’s nothing that was unusual?” Alya questioned.

**_"Jesus Christ. That's really bitter."_ **

No

Couldn't be

The chances of that was minuscule

**_"You can't just stroll in here! I'm not taking the word of some British guy!"_ **

**_"Rude. What was that about?"_ **

**_"Maybe he was fired?"_ **

Certainly not...

**_"Says he'd sooner run a sword through himself then allow anyone to drink that poison."_ **

The universe is rarely so kind

Hand reaching out for the discarded cup, she took a small experimental breath over the contents to see if that could warrant any information. Gabriel had gone down not long after talking about the coffee. The man had gotten confused over whose was whose last minute. As though he wasn't sure if he had switched them on accident.

She knew that sent

Why would she smell that?

In coffee?

Without anything added to it?

Red hot irony was common

But this much?

Bitter almonds

Certainly not

Why?

Why else would she be able to detect that?

Nino had returned with assistance, and Gabriel's condition seemed to have worsened. The doctors were trying to figure out what had happened, because if they didn't know and gave him lorazepam, it could react worse then what was already happening. "I... I think he's been poisoned." She suggested over the rush. The attending doctor swivelled his head over to her and took a look at the beverage she was eying warily.

"I smelled bitter almonds. He doesn't take milk. Let alone almond based. Given all that's happened, my mind wandered to cyanide. They- the people that took us I mean, would have the resources for this. Yet they're smart enough to not send in a good one. Just a new disposable foreign man should he be caught." She explained. Thank god for her high school science obsession preparing her for ever smelling such a thing without reason.

The doctor scanned her expression for a moment before nodding as the new patient was loaded onto the gurney despite the shaking. "Paul, take that drink down to the labs. I want it tested. Careful with it. Someone get 5 grams of hydroxocobalamin STAT. I don't care if we're wrong. A suspicion is good enough for me, and I'm not risking us not doing it and being wrong. His lips are already looking blue. Ventilator. Now." He ordered as they rushed out.

Yet again, Nathalie is left alone with an Agreste disappearing behind doors she couldn't see through in an unknown condition. Looking down at the ground, she cursed. Was it meant for her? Had the guy really messed up the order? Or had they always been planning to go for Gabriel? As a warning? He would've been dead immediately had they wanted that. They was simply aiming for suffrage. So it had to be a message. It couldn't be anything else.

That guy was an amateur, but to have even gotten the job he had to have enough knowledge to be labelled worth it. Enough to know the dose to kill someone in the blink of an eye with just a sip. Why not go for something like arsenic? Or even just something slow like belladonna so he'd be secluded by time symptoms kick in, unable to get medical assistance in time?

This whole damn thing was a mess she could no longer understand. When would it stop spiralling? She didn't want to have to sit through event after event. Just one minute of normalcy. One minute of watching anything go right. Literally anything. That was all she asked for. What was the point of waiting so long when all that awaited was yet another life altering event? For once, she just wanted things to go her way.

"Sorry I just need a minute." She brushed off, stepping outside without waiting for anyone's reaction to that. An angry grimace of her face, she growled under her breath. "Kid?" Plagg asked warily. "I'm going to kill them. If the police don't find them first, I swear to _god,_ I'll end up killing them. I can't take anymore of this." She promised.

The kwami was silent for a moment. "Don't you dare do it without me." He called out after a moment. "I'll cataclysm them if I so have to." She vowed, leaning her head against the wall. Starting a murder pact with the enemies kwami. Could things get any more off track?

”Just... just one more thing. This is it. This will be the last thing to go wrong. It has to be.”

Does that count as jinxing?


End file.
